


A 1940s Englishwoman in Modern NYC

by steverogersandpeggycarter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Steve and Peggy In Love, Time Travel, everyone lives in avengers tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steverogersandpeggycarter/pseuds/steverogersandpeggycarter
Summary: A time machine gone wrong sends Peggy from the 1940s to 2014 New York City, where all the Avengers are living prior to Age of Ultron.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 50
Kudos: 150
Collections: Steggy Week, Stories in which Peggy Carter has time traveled to the future to be with Steve Rogers.





	1. In Which Howard Stark Thinks He Knows What He's Doing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

It was Howard Stark’s idea to build the time machine. The week before, he had dropped and broken a costly invention that he had been working on for the better part of the last year. The worst part of it was that one of the components was a unique artifact that couldn’t be replaced. Howard decided the only thing to do was go back in time and recover his invention.

“Howard, how could you be so careless?” Peggy scolded him when she learned about his mishap and the plan to fix it. “You have the run of the SSR lab and you start by destroying something irreplaceable?”

“It’s not irreplaceable if I can get it back,” Howard said, sorting a tangle of wires into order. “Besides, think of the benefits to humanity that this time machine will bring!”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Mr. Stark, you might consider the benefits to humanity that would come if you took responsibility for your own actions.”

Howard ignored her. “Pass me the wrench, will you?”

It took him five days to complete his machine. The machine consisted of a huge glass cylinder with a door on one side and a lot of complicated machinery on top. Peggy came in to see what Howard was doing and stared at the monstrosity with her head on one side.

“Is that supposed to be a phone booth?”

Howard grinned. “You’re just in time to witness the trial run of the world’s first time machine. I’m glad you came—you can take notes.” He opened the door of the contraption and got in. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Peggy asked. “And have you consulted anybody else about this? To my knowledge, no one in the history of the world has successfully made a time machine.”

“Of course it’s safe!” Howard said. “You can see the plans if you want.” He motioned to a sheet of paper covered with equations. “And there’s no point consulting anybody else when nobody else has made a time machine!”

Peggy shook her head. “If you end up electrocuted or sent into outer space, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

“Come on, Peggy, stop worrying,” Howard said. “I’m just going to go back one week, pick up my invention, and come back. Nothing to fuss over.” He closed himself into the cylinder and began to push buttons.

There was a blinding flash, and Peggy shut her eyes. When she opened them, the cylinder was gone. In fact, the whole room was gone. Peggy was standing in the middle of an empty field, the grass around her littered with chairs and tables and Howard’s plans for the time machine.

“Howard!” Peggy shouted, more out of frustration than out of hope that Howard was there somewhere to hear her. Clearly something had gone wrong with the experiment. Where in the world was she? 

Peggy waited. Maybe Howard would be able to figure out what had happened and get her back somehow. However, after an hour he still hadn’t shown up, and Peggy’s watch said it was past her lunchtime. Maybe she’d better investigate and make sure she hadn’t been transported back to the Revolutionary War era or something. She gathered up Howard’s equation paper—maybe she would need it—and started walking.

Aware that she was stranded in the middle of nowhere with no purse, no identification, and no weapons, Peggy did the only thing she could do: she walked to the nearest road and started down it. No one came by for a few minutes. Then a black car of an unfamiliar shape appeared in the distance.

Peggy waved her arms at the driver of the car, but the driver, a man in a baseball cap, ignored her and sped on by. Peggy stared after the car. It was more rounded and streamlined than the cars she knew, and it looked as though it were made out of different material.

Peggy shook her head and kept on walking. Another car, a red one this time, came along. Peggy waved again. The car slowed to a halt, and the passenger window rolled down.

“Are you all right? Did your car break down?” The driver, a young woman with brown hair in a ponytail and unusual clothes, addressed Peggy.

“It’s a long story,” Peggy said. “I was—kidnapped, I suppose.”

The woman gasped. “That’s terrible! Do you have a phone? Do you want me to call the police?”

How would she have a phone? “Actually, I’d like to get somewhere where I can call the SSR,” Peggy said. “Where am I? And what date is it?”

The woman looked confused. “We’re just outside Randolph,” she said. “It’s the 29th.”

“Randolph where?” 

“New Jersey.”

At least she wasn’t too far from New York. “The 29th of what?”

“July.”

“What year?”

The woman’s face was worried. “2014! Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”

She was in the future. Stupid Howard, with his time machine! “No, I don’t need a doctor,” Peggy said. “But I could use a lift in the direction of New York if you’re going that way.”

“You’re sure you’re all right? Did you get hit on the head? I think I’d better call somebody!” 

“No, please, don’t call anybody,” Peggy said. “I’ll be all right once I’m in New York.”

The woman still looked concerned. “I’ll take you there,” she said. “Get in!”

Peggy got in. 

The driver started going. “Oh, you’re not buckled in,” she said.

“I’m not what?”

“You didn’t buckle your seat belt!”

Peggy noticed the driver was wearing a harness across her shoulder and hip. That was odd. She located one on her side of the car and managed to fasten it.

On the way to New York, Peggy learned that the young woman’s name was Brianna. She was a schoolteacher who lived and worked in New Jersey but went to New York fairly often.

Peggy told Brianna as much as she could about herself—she was from England, but had moved to the United States, and worked at the telephone company in New York. Brianna wanted to know about the kidnapping, but all Peggy would say was that she wasn’t in any danger now and would be able to get back all right.

The roads got busier than Peggy had ever seen in her life, and all the cars were unfamiliar shapes. In not too long Brianna reached the George Washington Bridge and crossed to Manhattan. “Where do you want to go?”

Peggy had been thinking about that. She had no idea if the SSR existed in 2014, or whether it was still in the same place. Furthermore, she didn’t know anybody. If it was 2014, that meant everyone her age must be almost a hundred years old. 

“Could you take me to Central Park?” she asked.

“All right,” Brianna said. “I’m going to Midtown—if I can find a parking garage! I’ll drop you off at the park. If you’re sure you’ll be all right.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Peggy said. At least she didn’t seem to be in danger at the moment. 

“Are you hungry?” Brianna asked. “Do you want a granola bar?”

Peggy didn’t know what a granola bar was, but since she was now ravenously hungry, she accepted it gratefully. The crunchy bar of oats, nuts, and raisins was extremely sweet. It helped curb Peggy’s hunger, though.

Brianna wove her way through the New York traffic as though she were used to it. Peggy was glued to the car window—New York had changed a lot since 1948. There were so many huge lit-up signs, so many tall buildings, and so many people in strange clothes!

Brianna was still worried about Peggy when she let her out at the southeast edge of Central Park. Peggy assured her for the twentieth time that she was all right, and Brianna drove off.

Central Park was more crowded than Peggy remembered. She strolled along the paths, listening to street musicians play unfamiliar music with a strong bass beat and watching people talk into oblong things held up to their ears. The future must have portable telephones. 

What in the world was she going to do? She didn’t have any money or identification. Unless people in the future had regular time travel, she doubted anyone would believe her time travel story. If the SSR still existed in the 21st century—which seemed unlikely—at least they might know who Howard Stark was.

Unfortunately, the SSR didn’t exactly give away their address to regular people. Peggy stopped a passerby, a middle-aged woman with brown curly hair, and asked whether the New York Bell Company office still existed. The woman looked confused, but offered to look it up on her phone. She pulled another one of those oblong things out of her pocket and typed some things in on a keyboard. “I’m sorry, I can’t find anything about the New York Bell Company,” she told Peggy. “Is it a historic site?”

Peggy was realizing more and more how impossible it would be to navigate this strange future world. With no money, no connections, and no place to live, what would she do? Ask for food at a soup kitchen? Try to find a job? Peggy cursed Howard Stark from the bottom of her heart.

Her encounter with the woman who had looked up the New York Bell Company gave her an idea. Maybe those phones with the glowing screens would work for looking up people too. 

She stopped another young woman, a blonde wearing a T-shirt and denim shorts, and asked her if she knew who Howard Stark was. 

“You mean Tony Stark?” the woman asked.

“No, Howard Stark. He was a rich inventor in New York in the 1940’s. “

“The 1940’s! Are you one of those people who goes around quizzing people about history and putting it on YouTube?”

“I’m not trying to quiz you,” Peggy said. “I need to look him up, and I don’t have a way to do it. I don’t have a phone.” 

“Oh!” The blonde woman pulled out her phone. “Sure, I’ll look him up for you.”

She typed in some letters and held the phone out in Peggy’s direction. “It looks like he was Tony Stark’s father. He died in 1991. You know who Tony Stark is, right? The Avenger?” 

Peggy tried to grasp this information. Howard had died in 1991. That sounded so wrong. He had a son. 

“Tony Stark?” she found herself repeating.

“Yes! Didn’t you hear about the Battle of New York? In 2012? It was all over the Internet!”

Peggy didn’t know what the Internet was. There had been a battle here in New York? It didn’t look like it. “Do you know where this Tony Stark lives?” she asked.

The woman pointed back the way Peggy had come. “Avengers Tower,” she said. “Used to be Stark Tower. It’s past Columbus Circle. You can’t miss it. It’s huge, and it has a big A up at the top. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Peggy said. “Thank you.” 

Peggy walked back the way she had come, pondering the new information. If Howard had a son, the son might have heard of her. It was worth a shot. 

It was strange thinking of Howard as dead. Now that she thought of it, in 2014, nearly everyone she knew must be dead. This was a new world, and among all the hustle and bustle of New York there wouldn’t be one familiar face.

Peggy had walked longer than she had thought, and it was a hot day. She was grateful to find a drinking fountain and an empty park bench.

Some kids were playing with a dog on a leash not far away. A blond-haired man sat on another park bench, sketching. Something about the man caught Peggy’s attention. There was something familiar about that straight nose, serious mouth, and strong jaw. There was also something familiar about the wide shoulders under the man’s T-shirt.

Peggy’s heart thumped oddly. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Not in the year 2014. Not when he had died in that plane crash in 1945. There must be plenty of well-built blond men in New York City in 2014. It shouldn’t be surprising that one of them happened to look like Steve Rogers.

Peggy got back up and continued on her way. She had to pass by the park bench where the blond man was sitting. As she grew nearer, she couldn’t help taking another glance.

The man looked up, and her heart suddenly stood still. It was Steve.


	2. In Which Steve Introduces Peggy to the Avengers

Peggy stared. Steve stared back, his blue eyes wide. “Peggy?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Steve?” Peggy said tremulously.

In one fluid movement Steve had sprung off the bench and gathered her into his arms. “Peggy!”

It was impossible. He had been dead. Was this a dream? Dreams were never this real. The grip of Steve’s arms around her was solid and reassuring. Peggy rested her head on his chest. “You’re alive,” she said.

“You’re real,” Steve said. “I thought I was dreaming.” He loosened his grip and stood back to look at her. “It’s really you!” There were tears on his face. 

“How are you alive?” Peggy asked. “You were lost in the ocean!”

Steve smiled. “That super-soldier serum is strong stuff. I was asleep for almost 70 years in that plane up in Canada. Then in 2012 an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. found me.”

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Peggy said, almost in a whisper.

Steve took her hands. “I can’t believe you’re young!” he said. “How did you get here? When did you get here?”

“Howard Stark’s time machine!” Peggy said, realizing that all her anger at Howard had melted away like nothing at the sight of Steve. “He built a time machine to go back one week and try to get back a piece of equipment he broke. He accidentally sent me to the future instead!”

Steve stared, digesting this information. “You have a time machine?”

“No,” Peggy said. “Howard made a glass cylinder with some type of apparatus on the top. I was in the lab, outside the cylinder. He pushed some buttons, there was a flash of light, and when I opened my eyes, I was in a field in the middle of New Jersey with the tables and chairs from the lab. But not Howard.”

Steve smiled. “I’ve never been so happy about one of Howard’s mistakes,” he said. “But that must have been a shock!”

“It was horrible at first,” Peggy said. “Especially when I learned it was 2014 and I didn’t have any money or identification. I got a ride into New York, and then I tried asking around about the SSR and Howard. A young lady told me Howard’s son lived in a place near here called ‘Avengers Tower.’”

Steve nodded. “Tony Stark. He owns the tower. It used to be Stark Tower before the Battle of New York.”

“I heard about that too, but I didn’t know what it was,” Peggy said. 

“It was two years ago,” Steve began, and stopped. “Wait a minute. Are you hungry? You just got here. I can still hardly believe it.”

Peggy smiled. “I can hardly believe you’re alive.”

“Let’s get you some food,” Steve said, grabbing his sketch pad (which had fallen to the ground unheeded when he jumped up to greet Peggy) and leading Peggy in the direction she had been walking before. “I live at Avengers Tower. There’s bound to be something in the refrigerator.”

Walking briskly through Central Park, her hand clasped snugly in Steve’s hand, Peggy could still hardly believe what was going on. Steve’s familiar voice helped ground her a bit as he cheerfully told her about the Avengers and the Battle of New York. The whole story sounded wild—aliens coming through a portal in outer space; a glowing blue scepter; a man who turned into a huge green hulk; and Howard Stark’s son flying around in an iron hover suit. The future was a strange place.

A lot had happened besides the Battle of New York. Bucky was alive! Steve told her about living in Washington DC and about the fight to take down Hydra a second time. Hydra had had a fighter called the Winter Soldier, whom they had been sending out for the last fifty years to cause death and destruction. The Winter Soldier was Bucky. Hydra had brainwashed him. But his brainwashing wasn’t complete, because he saved Steve from drowning in the Potomac after a huge fight on a helicarrier. Peggy had a hard time making heads or tails of the story, and she decided to ask Steve about it again later. Steve said he was still looking for Bucky. He wanted to help him heal from all the horrors that Hydra had done to him.

They finally arrived at the front doors of a tall, strangely-shaped tower with a huge A at the top. Peggy thought it ugly. Steve pulled a slim card from his wallet and slid it into a slot by one of the large glass doors, and the door opened.

They were in a large glass-walled lobby with couches and a desk with a receptionist. “Hello, Martha,” Steve said as they went by the reception desk.

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” the receptionist replied.

Steve led the way to an elevator. “The kitchen’s on the third floor,” he said.

The industrial kitchen in Avengers Tower was large. Peggy looked around with interest at the stoves and counters. “Do you all do your own cooking?” she asked.

Steve shook his head. “Tony has kitchen staff. They’ll be in pretty soon to start dinner, but I like to keep my hand in and do some cooking of my own.” 

He rummaged in a refrigerator. “How about a ham sandwich?”

“That would be lovely.”

They took a plate of sandwiches upstairs to Steve’s living quarters. Each Avenger had his or her own suite in the tower, Steve said. They went into a large room, which had a kitchenette on one side with a mini refrigerator and a thing that looked like a breadbox but Steve called a microwave. The other side of the room was a living room. A hallway opened off the living room to a bedroom and bathroom.

They sat on Steve’s living room couch. The living room was on the outside of the Tower, so its entire outside wall was glass looking out onto New York. Peggy ignored New York for the moment. The whole situation was so surreal and yet so right. Back during the war, Peggy had often dreamed of peacetime spent with Steve. Their time together had always been busy and filled with dangers. She would have loved to have a moment like this, just relaxing and being in each other’s company.

Peggy snuggled closer to Steve on the couch. He put his arm around her shoulders. 

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Steve called without getting up.

The door opened. The newcomer was a dark-haired man with a well kempt beard. 

“What’s this?” he asked. “I never thought I would see America’s Hero entertaining women in his private quarters.”

Peggy couldn’t suppress a smile. Steve stood up. “Peggy, this is Tony Stark. Tony, Peggy Carter.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. He made an effort to pull himself together. “Peggy Carter?” he repeated. “Is this some kind of joke, Rogers?”

Peggy smiled and went over to shake Tony’s hand. “Mr. Stark,” she said. “I’m Agent Peggy Carter of the SSR. I’m here because your father Howard’s time machine malfunctioned in 1948.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up. “Time machine?”

“Yes. Your father broke one of his inventions and couldn’t recreate it because one of the parts was a unique artifact. He decided to go back in time and retrieve it. Something went wrong, and here I am.”

Tony shook his head. “Unbelievable. I never knew my father did anything with time travel. I wonder what he did?”

“Actually, I have his equations,” Peggy said. She pulled a folded sheet of paper out of the sleeve of her blouse. “This is the time machine he made.”

Tony unfolded the paper and stared at it. “Unbelievable.” He looked up. “I forgot why I came in here. Do you mind if I take this up to the lab and have a look at it?”

“Be my guest,” Peggy said. “But be careful. That machine your father built didn’t just affect people who were inside the machine. I was standing in the lab at a safe distance from the machine, and I ended up in New Jersey in 2014.”

“Strange,” Tony said. “I’ll go look at it.” He went out the door, so intent on the paper he nearly tripped on Steve’s shield that was propped near the door.

“So that’s Tony,” Steve said. 

“He certainly reminds me of Howard,” Peggy said. “Maybe a little more highly strung.”

“Highly strung is right,” Steve said. “He had a tough time a few years back when he was a prisoner in Afghanistan. He’s one of the great minds of the modern world. Billionaire, philanthropist, playboy—” 

“Now that does sound like Howard.” Peggy laughed. 

News traveled fast around Avengers Tower. When Steve and Peggy went up to the dining hall for dinner (not that Peggy was hungry after those sandwiches, but Steve was always hungry after the super-soldier serum), the assembled Avengers around the table all looked at them with interest.

“So that’s the girl in the picture you wouldn’t tell me about, Rogers,” said a small red-haired woman with a mischievous expression. 

Steve ignored the comment. “Peggy, this is Natasha Romanoff. Romanoff, Peggy Carter.” He looked around the table at the other avengers. “Peggy, these are the rest of the Avengers. Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Thor—you’ve met Tony already. And this is Tony’s girl Pepper Potts—she’s not an Avenger, but none of us can do without her. Everyone, this is Agent Peggy Carter of the SSR.”

Peggy nodded and smiled at everyone. “How do you do?” She slid into a chair next to Steve.

The table conversation was lively. Everyone wanted to know how Howard’s time machine had worked. Peggy had to tell her story again, interrupted by many questions and comments. She was surprised to learn that S.H.I.E.L.D., the organization that had gotten the Avengers together in the first place, was an organization that she had founded with Howard in the 1950s. 

“And we all know why it was named ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.,’” Natasha said. “Somebody was awfully good friends with our resident super-soldier.”

“You know what, Romanoff?” Steve said, looking embarrassed.

Peggy smiled to herself. Ever since the days of the Howling Commandos she had taken great amusement from the way Steve got when he was embarrassed.

Over the course of the dinner Peggy learned that there was another Avenger, Sam Wilson, who was known as Falcon. He was away on a mission looking for Bucky. He and Steve had been taking turns looking for Bucky ever since Bucky had saved Steve from the Potomac.

Tony had gotten a chance to look more at those time machine plans. “It looks to me like something was attached backwards,” he told Peggy. “Instead of the cylinder and everything inside it traveling through time, the machine made everything outside the cylinder, within a certain radius, travel through time. I still haven’t figured out why you ended up in 2014 instead of 1948, though.”

“Tony doesn’t go much for time travel,” Bruce told Peggy from across the table. “He’s more interested in robots and artificial intelligence.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” Peggy asked.

“No,” Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. “Robots are machines that can be programmed to do specific things. Artificial intelligence is a science that creates programs that simulate human behavior. You can use artificial intelligence to make robots that behave more like humans, which is where the two things overlap.”

“Tony’s invented a program called J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Steve told Peggy. “Except for the things that Pepper does, J.A.R.V.I.S. practically runs this place.”

“Jarvis?” Peggy asked. Of course! Howard’s son would name his butler program after his father’s butler. Tony had probably grown up with the Jarvises watching out for him. 

When the meal was over, Tony headed up to the lab. Pepper Potts approached Peggy. After all the chaos of the day, Pepper’s relaxed, cheerful attitude was calming. “Miss Carter,” she said, “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a guest room for you. Room 5, on the 13th floor. I’ve also found some clothes I believe should fit you. Is that all right?” She handed Peggy a card like the one Steve had used to unlock the Tower door.

“Thank you so much,” Peggy said gratefully. “I don’t know where else I would stay. I don’t have any money or identification with me.”

“We’ll take care of that as soon as we can,” Pepper assured her. “But in any case, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. After all, it was Tony’s father that got you into this!”

Peggy smiled. “I was furious with him at first, but I’ve never been so grateful for one of his mistakes in my life!”


	3. In Which Steve and Peggy Go On an Outing

After dinner, Steve suggested that if Peggy wasn’t too tired and if she didn’t feel like hanging around the lab while Tony worked on the time machine equations, they could take the subway down to Battery Park and see the Statue of Liberty. Peggy agreed with alacrity.

Since they were going to be going through a lot of public spaces, Steve suggested that Peggy might want to find a change of outfit. The Avengers usually tried to look as inconspicuous as possible when they were out and about, and Peggy’s 1940s clothes were likely to attract attention. Peggy agreed. She had gotten a number of strange looks while walking through Central Park. 

Peggy’s room, with attached bathroom, was on the 13th floor, the same floor as Steve’s suite. That was considerate of Pepper, Peggy thought. She shooed Steve away while she went in to find a change of clothes.

The closet and dresser were both filled with a bewildering number of options. Even after her afternoon in Central Park, Peggy wasn’t quite sure what people were wearing these days.

A tap on the door surprised her. “Sorry, Steve, I’ll hurry,” she called.

“It’s not Steve,” a woman’s voice said. “It’s Natasha. May I come in? I thought you might like some help picking out a disguise.”

“Disguise, my foot,” Peggy laughed. She let Natasha in. “I knew all about disguises in the 1940s. I have no idea what anyone wears in 2014!”

Natasha smiled crookedly. “Allow me.” She rifled through the closet. “I don’t suppose you’ve worn a jumpsuit before?”

“For jumping out of a plane, yes! You mean to say people wear them in New York?” Peggy looked askance at the silky, sleeveless, navy-colored thing Natasha pulled out to show her.

Natasha shook her head. “Not your thing.” She dived back into the closet. “I’m tempted to give you this blue-and-white polka dot skirt with a red shirt, but Rogers would know I did it on purpose. Wait, I’ve got it!”

She pulled out a red sundress. “This sundress, a pair of shades, and a pair of Converse, and you’re going to have to revive Steve when he faints at the sight of you.”

Peggy smiled. “Exactly how much did Steve tell you about me?” she asked.

“Nothing at all,” Natasha said. “That’s why I knew you were important.” She whisked open the top drawer of the dresser. “If you want fresh makeup, Pepper put trial sizes in here.” She turned to leave, then stopped. “And your hair is too 1940s. If you want, I’ve got a hair straightener.”

Peggy grinned. “I suppose I might as well go all the way,” she said. 

Fifteen minutes later she barely recognized herself with the sundress, straight hair in a ponytail, and flat sneakers. She borrowed a cross-body purse for her sunglasses and lipstick. She couldn’t find any handkerchiefs, but Natasha told her everyone was using paper tissues called Kleenex now. She gave Peggy a stack of them.

Steve was waiting outside Peggy’s door when she and Natasha came out. His face changed.

“I knew you’d have to pick up your jaw off the ground, Rogers,” Natasha said teasingly. “Have a good time, you two!” She went off grinning.

“Well?” Peggy asked, smiling at Steve.

“Wow,” Steve said. “You’re beautiful. I mean, you were beautiful before, but—I mean--”

Peggy smiled. “You’re getting better, but you still don’t know much about talking to women,” she said. 

“Hard to get practice when you’re frozen for sixty-six years,” Steve retorted, offering Peggy his arm.

They went out to the nearest subway stop. “We can take the red line almost all the way,” Steve said. “We’ll have to walk a bit at the end.”

“I like walking,” Peggy said. “Although these are strange shoes.”

“At least you can run in them if you have to,” Steve said. “Nothing worse than being on a stealth mission with shoes that fall off when you run.”

“That sounds like a story,” Peggy said. “Personal experience?”

He grinned. “Yep.”

At the subway entrance, Steve handed Peggy a card. “You’ve got to swipe it to go through the turnstile,” he said, waiting to make sure Peggy could figure it out before going through himself. Peggy swiped it too fast the first time, but on the second try the swipe was successful and she got through the turnstile. Steve swiped his own card and followed her.

Although more things were automated, the subway itself wasn’t too different from the way Peggy remembered it. The car they got into was full, and they had to stand. Steve wore his baseball cap pulled low down over his face. Peggy imagined that he must have trouble staying anonymous when so many people had seen him on the news as an Avenger. 

After the subway ride, which was uneventful, Steve and Peggy walked down to Battery Park. Steve kept his hand firmly clasped over Peggy’s, as if he were afraid she would vanish at any moment. He wanted to know how things had gone at the SSR since 1945, and Peggy filled him in on what had happened since he went in the ice—on Howard getting framed for stealing his own inventions, on Dottie and Dr. Ivchenko trying to kill all the people in New York, on zero matter and Whitney Frost. She also mentioned that she’d had a relationship with SSR agent Daniel Sousa, and she felt Steve looking at her keenly, but he didn’t say anything.

Battery Park was lovely, with the evening sun shining on the water and the Statue of Liberty off in the distance. A sailing ship from the 1800s, carefully restored, sat in the harbor. A few people were sitting on benches or walking around the park, but on the whole it was much less crowded than Central Park had been.

They sat on a bench near the water, taking in the view. “I remember coming down here when I was a boy,” Steve said. “My mom had a day off from work, and we took sandwiches and walked all the way down here to save the subway fare. It was four miles each way, but it was worth it. We sat right over there on a blanket and looked out at the water, and Mom read to me from _Treasure Island_.” 

Peggy remembered stories Steve had told her during the war, stories about a brave, determined mother who worked and sacrificed constantly for her son. It had been hard to make ends meet during the war, but Sarah Rogers had always maintained a cheery outlook. Peggy thought Steve must have her disposition.

“She would be so proud of you now,” Peggy said.

Steve smiled. “I always wanted to make her proud.”

They sat silently for a while. Streaks of sunset color began to cross the sky.

“Steve,” Peggy said, at the exact moment that Steve was beginning to say “Peggy.” They laughed.

“You go first,” Peggy said, knowing that when Steve started talking he usually had something important on his mind.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Steve said, looking at Peggy with serious blue eyes, “and really, I’m afraid to say it, but here goes.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been a long time since 1945. I want to let you know that—I mean, lots of things have changed—after all, everyone thought I was dead, and you needed to go on with your life—” He paused to compose himself.

Peggy took one of his hands in both of hers. “I think I know where you’re going,” she said, “and I was just beginning to ask you the same thing.” She saw hope begin to rise in the blue eyes.

“Peggy,” Steve said softly, “whether you go back to the 1940s, or whether you stay here, I’ll go with you—if you want me to.”

Peggy’s heart surged with unexpected joy. “Is that even a question?” 

Steve pulled her close and kissed her, heedless of the other people around them. Eyes closed, kissing him back, Peggy felt the last remnants of the sorrow she had carried with her for the last three years slip away. 

They sat on the bench a long time, Peggy’s head resting against Steve’s chest and his arm around her shoulder. The stars began to come out, one by one.

Peggy laughed suddenly. “Did you know the night sky always makes me think of you? The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.”

Steve chuckled. “He’s not quite so star-spangled at the moment, but he does have a few plans up his sleeve.”

“Like what?” Peggy said, snuggling closer to Steve. She was getting sleepy.

“Well, the first one is getting back to the Tower before we both fall asleep on our feet,” Steve said, kissing Peggy on the top of her head. “The others will have to wait for tomorrow at least.”

A voice behind them made them both turn around. “You know, public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.” It was Natasha, not even trying to hide a broad smirk.

“Romanoff!” Steve burst into laughter. “What are you doing here?”

“Just finished investigating a possible situation,” Natasha said. “Somebody called in and said there was an alien invasion in the park. It turned out to be a bunch of kids playing ‘Ghost in the Graveyard.’”

“Going back to the Tower?” Steve asked.

Natasha shook her head. “I’ve got a few more things to do.” She smirked at them. “You two can carry on with whatever you were doing.” She turned and sauntered away.

Peggy laughed. “Steve, you’re right—we probably should get back if it’s dark enough for people to think kids in the park are an alien invasion.” 

They headed back towards the subway, hand in hand.


	4. In Which the Avengers Watch Star Wars and Hardly Anyone Gets a Good Night's Sleep

Back at Avengers Tower, most of the other Avengers were gathered in the common living area on the tenth floor when Steve and Peggy walked in.

“Steve!” Thor called from the depths of a large armchair. “Lady Peggy! You should join us! We are about to start watching the adventures of a young man named Luke as he travels with his two servant robots.”

“Star Wars?” Steve asked. “I saw that one. I still think Luke looks like Bucky.”

“Do not tell me what happens,” Thor warned him. “I have not seen it. When I was a boy, my brother Loki would read books and tell me the endings before I had read them. Or he would transform himself into the same book with a different ending, and when I had finished the book, he would jump out and stab me.”

“My goodness!” Peggy said. “You must have had quite the childhood!”

Thor shrugged and smiled. “There was never a dull moment.”

“Seeing as your brother tried to destroy all of New York with an alien invasion, I believe you,” Tony Stark called from across the room. He was lying back on a couch relaxing. Bruce Banner was reading a book on another couch. Clint Barton came in with a large bowl of popcorn.

“Peggy, do you want to watch the movie?” Steve asked. “People can watch them at home now. You can get just about any movie at any time.”

Peggy smiled at him. “All right,” she said. “I’ll give it a try. If I get too tired I can always leave partway through.”

“You’re not going to want to leave partway through this,” Clint told her as he put the DVD in the player. “Bruce, move over so they can sit.”

Steve sat down on the couch and wrapped an arm around Peggy’s shoulder. Tony smirked from his couch. Steve chose to ignore him.

Clint turned off most of the lights and started the movie. 

Star Wars was the first movie series Steve had seen since being unfrozen in 2012. The other Avengers had been delighted to find someone who didn’t already know the plot twists in and out, and they had figured Steve would fit in a bit better in the 21st century if he knew a few Star Wars quotes. 

Peggy was impressed with the vibrant colors and the movie sets. Tony informed her that movie technology had progressed a lot since the first Star Wars movie was shot, but it was a cult classic definitely worth seeing.

Much as he had enjoyed watching Star Wars before, Steve found his mind wandering during the movie. It was incredible that he was sitting on a couch in the 21st century with his arm around Peggy Carter’s shoulder. 

Halfway through the movie Steve felt Peggy’s head come to rest on his shoulder, and when the movie finally ended and Clint turned on the lights, Steve realized that Peggy was fast asleep.

“Never thought I’d see the day when a gorgeous woman would be using you for a pillow, Rogers,” Tony remarked. 

“Ssh!” Thor said quietly, a finger to his lips. “The lady sleeps.”

“She’ll have to wake up, or Steve will have to stay here all night,” Clint said.

Steve felt his face growing red, but the other Avengers weren’t nearly as bad as the Howling Commandos had been. Just then Peggy stirred.

“Was I asleep?” she said sleepily, blinking in the light.

“It’s all right,” Steve said. “You’ve had a long day.”

Peggy yawned. “You’re right. I should turn in.” She stretched and got up. “Sorry I missed so much of the movie—I can’t remember much past the middle.”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Steve said.

They went up in the elevator, and Steve dropped Peggy off at her doorway. “Goodnight, Peggy,” he said. 

Peggy smiled up at him. “Goodnight, my darling.” She sleepily pulled him in for a kiss. “See you in the morning.”

Steve went back to his own suite, got ready for bed, and promptly discovered that he couldn’t sleep. The whole day kept replaying in his head over and over, mostly images of Peggy. He still had a hard time believing she was really there. Although, he told himself, time travel seemed pretty reasonable compared to a lot of the things he’d seen since being defrosted—aliens coming through a portal from outer space, characters from Norse myths showing up in New York City, and the Tesseract that had killed Johann Schmidt turning up again, just to name a few. 

After tossing and turning for what seemed like half the night, Steve checked the clock by his bed. 2 AM. With a sigh he got up and went out of his suite to the elevator.

As he had guessed, he wasn’t the only one awake in Avengers Tower. When he got to Tony Stark’s lab, Tony was looking at 3D projections of some model he was making and saying snappy things to J.A.R.V.I.S about it.

Steve popped his head in the door. “Late night?”

“I oughtta ask you the same thing,” Tony said. “Oh, it’s you, Rogers. Come in.” He sat down on a spare box and pulled a bag out of his pocket. “Blueberries?”

Steve accepted the blueberries and sat backwards on a folding chair. “Learn anything about the time machine?”

“Not much yet,” Tony said. “I’ve had J.A.R.V.I.S. draw up an approximate model of what this machine probably looked like. But I don’t understand everything my father was trying to do with these equations, and they’re all out of order. The whole thing looks like he was trying to just slap something together.”

“Well, from what Peggy told me, he was building it in a hurry,” Steve said.

“Right. Peggy.” Tony looked keenly at Steve. “Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to wait to learn about it from Pepper?”

“Tell you what?” Steve felt his face reddening. “She came back. She’s young. I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“So that’s why you’re up at this time of night,” Tony said. “Trying to wrap your head around the idea that an old Army friend has discovered time travel. Or maybe she’s more than just an old Army friend.”

“Did I ever say she wasn’t?” Steve said quickly. 

Tony sighed. “You’re as bad about giving out information as Romanoff says you are. I’ll have to do the old asking-Pepper-about-it routine. When I do that, I usually have to agree to give up working on some project she thinks is worthless and do something about one of her projects instead.” He grabbed a mug from a nearby table, took a swig from it, and made a face. “Cold coffee. Knowing you, I’d bet a hundred dollars you’re not the kiss-and-tell type.”

Steve did his best poker face. 

“Your ears are red. Dead giveaway.” Tony took another drink of the cold coffee. “Congratulations, Rogers. I’d put up signs all over the Tower: “Ninety-five Year Old Man Finally Gets First Kiss,” but I don’t have the time.”

Steve groaned. “Tony, my first kiss was long before you were born.” He got up. “Why did I come up here, anyway?”

“Sleepwalking, probably,” Tony said. “You’re not as bad as Clint. I run into him all the time, eyes open, walking down hallways, completely zonked out.”

“I hope he doesn’t go around like that with his bow and arrow.” Steve turned to go. “Tony, do you ever get any sleep?”

“Sleep?” Tony asked. “Believe it or not, it takes some work to get this brain to turn off and relax. It’s easier to just stay up if I’ve got something on my mind.”

Steve went down to the common living area and made a cup of coffee in the automatic coffee maker (Tony insisted on having coffee makers sprinkled at intervals all through the Tower so he could get a cup of coffee whenever he wanted it). Coffee didn’t keep Steve awake—like alcohol, it didn’t do anything to him since the super-soldier serum—but he hoped drinking something warm might make him sleepy. He sat on the couch where he and Peggy had sat that evening watching the movie. 

A sound behind him startled him, and he turned around. It was Natasha coming in from her late mission.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked. “You’re usually a regular senior citizen—up at 5, in bed by 9!”

Steve grinned. “I’m borrowing some of Tony’s insomnia for the evening.”

“Good day, huh?” Natasha sat cross-legged on the floor near Steve’s couch and smiled smugly. 

“Yeah.” Steve sipped his coffee. 

“So have you proposed to her?” Natasha pressed.

“You’re worse than Tony,” Steve said. “I’m going to. Soon.”

“That why you can’t sleep? Planning out the proposal?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m worried I’ll fall asleep and then wake up and this will all be a dream,” he said. “I’ve dreamed so many times that we were together again.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “I’ve got an idea,” she exclaimed. “Do you have a notebook?”

“On me? At this hour?” 

“Okay, I’ll find one.” Natasha went out and returned a minute later with a piece of paper.

“Here you go, Rogers,” she said. “I’ve made you a sign. You can hang it in your room or something, and when you wake up you’ll see it and know Peggy coming back wasn’t a dream.”

She handed Steve the piece of paper. In large letters it said: PEGGY IS REALLY BACK.

Steve grinned. “Thanks, Romanoff,” he said. “I think I’ll try it out.”

“Good.” Natasha smiled. “Well, I’m going to get a midnight snack. See you tomorrow, Rogers!”

Steve stretched out on the couch. He would go to bed in just a minute. Right now he was too comfortable to get up.

Passing through the common area forty-five minutes later, Clint was surprised to see America’s golden boy fast asleep on one of the couches, a piece of paper clutched in one hand.


	5. A Somewhat Normal Morning in Avengers Tower

Peggy woke up early in an unfamiliar room. Where was she? And why was she wearing these strange pajamas she didn’t remember as hers?

Then she remembered, and the previous day’s events flooded back in a rush. The time machine. Modern New York. Steve _alive and well_. 

Steve! Peggy remembered that Steve was an early riser. She glanced at the clock (an unfamiliar thing with glowing red numbers) on her bedside table: 7 AM. If Steve still had his old habits from the Army, he would have gone on his morning run a long time ago.

Peggy rummaged in the closet and dresser to find something to wear. She’d seen enough modern outfits in New York the day before to get some idea of the kinds of clothes people wore nowadays. She ended up picking a pair of blue jeans (she was familiar with them from the war, although the cut of the jeans was much different than it had been in the 40s) and a red blouse. The jeans were slightly too big around the waist. Peggy found a mini sewing kit in the top dresser drawer—Pepper really had thought of everything. She took the jeans in at the waist, being careful to tack them so the stitching could be removed later.

Dressed and ready for the day, Peggy brushed her hair. It had been strange not putting it up in pin curls the night before, but nobody was wearing curls like that these days. 

Peggy sallied forth, key card in hand, and found that there was no one around. She knocked on Steve’s door just in case he was there, but wasn’t surprised when there was no answer. He must have gotten up long ago.

She ran into Natasha in the elevator. “Sleep well?” the red-haired woman asked. 

“Yes, thank you,” Peggy said. “I don’t think I’ve been so tired in a long time.”

“You should come to the common area to get some breakfast,” Natasha said. “Tony always has a good spread there. Also, there’s someone you might want to see—you’ve got competition for being the most tired.”

She led Peggy out into the common area and wordlessly pointed at one of the couches.

Peggy couldn’t help smiling. Steve, the early riser, was asleep on the couch, morning sun filtering through chinks of the window blinds and streaking his hair with gold. 

“He couldn’t sleep,” Natasha said. “He was afraid he’d wake up and it would all be a dream.”

Peggy smiled over a lump forming in her throat. What an adorable idiot! 

Natasha went into a small kitchen connected to the common area, ostensibly to get some food. Peggy slowly approached the couch where Steve was sleeping. He was curled on his side, slightly too big for the size of the couch, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. His blond hair was wildly disheveled. 

“Steve,” Peggy said softly, not really intending to wake him.

Steve stirred. Peggy had forgotten about his super-hearing. When they had been in the army, he had confessed to her that it was a good thing he was always dead tired at the end of the day. Otherwise the slightest noise could wake him up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a bewildered expression that suddenly changed to recognition. “Peggy!” Steve sat bolt upright, the piece of paper he’d been holding fluttering to the floor. “It wasn’t a dream,” he said softly.

Peggy smiled. She’d never before seen a face suffused with such joy while looking so incredibly sleepy. “Natasha told me you couldn’t sleep,” she said.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here,” Steve said, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. “What time is it?”

“7:45,” Natasha’s voice called from the kitchen. She appeared with a laden plate of food. “You’ve missed your morning run, Steve. We’ve got a meeting with Nick Fury in fifteen.”

“Fifteen minutes!” Steve groaned. “Why didn’t somebody wake me up? All right, I’ll get ready.” He hauled himself up off the couch, planted a quick kiss on Peggy’s cheek, and hurried off.

The paper Steve had dropped was lying on the carpet. Peggy picked it up and read it: PEGGY IS REALLY BACK. A feeling of warmth spread through her. 

“I made that for him,” Natasha said, plunking herself down on the couch. “It was in case he woke up and thought the whole thing was a dream.”

Peggy smiled. “You’re a good friend.”

The redhead grinned at her. “You might not say that if you knew how many girls I’ve tried to set Steve up with. One of the last times I tried to set him up, he jumped out of a plane without a parachute.” She bit into a croissant.

“He did _what_?” Peggy groaned. “One would think that crashing a plane and being frozen for seventy years would make someone more careful around planes!” Shaking her head, she started towards the kitchen, then stopped. “Other girls, you said?” 

Natasha’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. “It would be a lot of fun to leave you hanging and watch you grill Steve about it,” she said. “But I can play nice. He didn’t go out with any of them. He had a list of excuses a mile long. He was too busy, or he wasn’t ready for that, or it was hard to find someone with shared life experience.”

Peggy’s mind went back to 1944, to the Howling Commandos tramping through snow and mud, tired to death but still on the alert for enemy snipers. “I can imagine shared life experience would narrow the field quite a bit,” she said.

The breakfast spread provided by Tony Stark was lavish. Not only were there muffins, fruit, croissants, milk, and coffee, but there were chafing dishes with sausages, bacon, and mini omelets. Peggy helped herself to a generous plateful of food.

She was sitting on the couch in the common area, listening to Natasha explain how the Internet worked, when Steve burst back into the room. His hair was wet, and he was in the middle of buttoning his shirt.

“Peggy!” he exclaimed. “I just thought of something. If Tony tells Fury about your being here, there’s going to be the biggest uproar of the 21st century!” He plunked himself down on the couch next to her. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to want to interview you. It’ll be national news. They’ll probably think you’re an impostor or something. And if they do believe you, they’ll want to get their hands on that time machine.”

Peggy pursed her lips. “I quite see what you mean.” She thought for a moment. “Where is Tony Stark?”

“Still in bed, probably,” Steve said.

“He was up all night,” Natasha said. “He’ll probably roll out of bed at the last second and come to the meeting in his pajamas.”

“If that doesn’t sound like Howard, nothing does,” Peggy said. She got up. “Well, I’m going to catch him on his way to the meeting. I’d like to understand what’s going on around here a little better before getting involved in any national news!”

“National news?” A tousled head of dark hair came around the doorway. “What national news?”

“Tony!” Steve jumped up from the couch. “Just the man we were looking for.”

“Really?” Tony approached slowly, a mug of coffee in his hand. His eyes looked somewhat bleary, and he was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. “If you want me to be your best man, Steve, I accept.” 

He was definitely Howard’s son. Peggy noticed Steve’s ears turning pink.

“Tony,” Peggy said, “I would appreciate it if you did _not_ tell about my being here at that meeting of yours.” Her voice was polite, but her gaze was unrelentingly stern.

Tony took a swig of coffee and looked at Peggy over the rim of his mug. “By ‘you’d appreciate it,’ you mean ‘don’t tell anybody and maybe you won’t die,’ don’t you?”

Steve laughed. “You’re catching on, Tony.”

“Mixed in with the hundred-and-one stories my father would tell about the heroic Captain America at any possible opportunity,” Tony said, sinking into a chair, “there were quite a few stories about Agent Peggy Carter. Most of them involved somebody getting punched or shot. I’m guessing time travel doesn’t make somebody forget how to throw a punch or shoot a gun. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Nick. I enjoy having a few secrets from him once in a while.”

“You’re not going to tell Nick anything at all if you don’t make it to the meeting,” Natasha called on her way out of the room. “You boys are gonna be late.”

Tony got up from his chair with a groan. Steve grinned at him. “Enjoy your night in the lab?” he asked.

“If Fury didn’t call meetings at the ungodly hour of 8 AM, a lot of people would be very happy,” Tony said, slowly starting towards the door as Steve pressed Peggy’s hand and hurried after Natasha.

* * * * *

While Steve was in his meeting, Peggy went to find Pepper Potts. There was a convenient map of Avengers Tower on the wall of the common area that had Pepper’s office marked on it, so Peggy found her without much trouble.

The door of Pepper’s office was open. She was inside, talking on the phone and doing something on a computer at the same time. Peggy waited outside, a few steps away, so she wouldn’t intrude on the phone conversation.

Finally Pepper got off the phone. “Miss Carter!” she said. “Please, come in. What can I do for you?”

Peggy sat down on a comfortable office chair near Pepper’s desk. “I’d like to talk to you,” she said. “I’m very grateful for your hospitality, and I was wondering if there’s anything I could do to help around here in return. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but while I’m here, I want to make myself useful.” 

Pepper’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Miss Carter, you’re here as a result of something Howard did. Stark Industries owes you far more than we’ve been able to give you!”

“All the same, I would feel better if there was some way I could help,” Peggy said.

Pepper’s face was thoughtful. “Well, let’s see,” she said. “I’m sure there is. But I have an idea you’d feel more at home doing something to help the Avengers than working for Stark Industries.” She smiled suddenly. “I can hardly believe the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. is asking me if there’s any way she can help around here!”

“It’s dreadfully awkward that everyone knows what I’ve done since 1948, and I don’t,” Peggy said. “At the moment I still don’t quite know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is, unless it’s a new name for the SSR, and I certainly don’t know what the letters stand for!”

Pepper laughed. “I’m not sure even Nick Fury could tell you that off the top of his head,” she said. 

“Well, if you think the Avengers could use my help more than Stark Industries, I’ll talk to them,” Peggy said. “Who’s the head of the Avengers? Nick Fury? Tony?”

Pepper looked surprised. “Actually, it’s Steve Rogers,” she said. “Didn’t he tell you that?”

Peggy shook her head. It was just like Steve not to mention that he was the head of the group. Although he had led the Howling Commandos, and was a natural leader, he always thought of himself as just another part of the team.

“He didn’t tell me, but I guess I’m not surprised,” Peggy said. “I’ll talk to him, then. Thank you, Miss Potts.”

“Pepper is fine.” Pepper smiled.

“Then please call me Peggy.”


	6. In Which Thor Goes on a Trip and Peggy Joins the Avengers

The meeting with Nick Fury and the Avengers was more heated than any of them had expected—and it wasn’t because Tony told about Peggy. With great restraint (or maybe just a lack of energy) Tony kept his mouth tightly shut and listened to Fury. 

The Avengers sat around a large table in one of the Avengers Tower conference rooms. Tony had convinced Nick Fury that it would be easier to meet the Avengers where they were than to get them all to come to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for their meetings. Besides, having the Avengers around was distracting for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. They tended to forget their missions and start asking for autographs. It worked better for everyone to have the Avengers meetings at the Tower.

Fury had a news bulletin for the Avengers. There had been some strange weather occurrences in New Mexico, near the spot where Thor’s hammer had turned up a few years ago, and people were getting concerned. 

“What sort of weather occurrences?” Thor asked, his eyes fixed intensely on Fury. “Do you mean someone has been using the Bifrost?”

“We have a few photos,” Fury said. “A team from S.H.I.E.L.D. has gone to check it out. They shouldn’t need backup, but I want you all to be on standby in case something big turns up.” 

“Where are the pictures?” Thor asked. 

Fury pulled up some images on the screen in front of him and turned the screen to face the Avengers sitting around the table.

Most of the photos showed dark, swirling clouds that didn’t look like any clouds people normally saw in New Mexico. One showed a dark, circular scorch mark on the ground. 

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

Thor stiffened. “That is the seal of the Bifrost. Someone has been traveling from Asgard to your realm. I must find out who it is.” He started for the door.

“Thor!” Tony shouted. “Get back here!”

“The S.H.I.E.L.D. team has everything under control,” Fury said, rising to his feet. “You’re needed here. Come back.”

Thor stopped in the doorway, clutching his hammer tightly. “Those who travel from Asgard to Midgard do not do so lightly. Heimdall, the keeper of the Bifrost, will let no one through without good reason. I must find this Asgardian.”

“Do you think it’s something dangerous?” Bruce asked.

“I do not know.” Thor shook his head. “Since the last time I was there, Asgard has been at peace. But something may have happened. Perhaps my father is looking for me. Since I have been gone, the Warriors Three have been Asgard’s only defense.”

“And you’re part of the Earth’s defense,” Fury said. “Thor, you’ve been going back and forth between Earth and Asgard ever since the Battle of New York. You need to stay here. The Avengers are no use if they don’t act like a team.”

“I think he ought to go,” Steve said suddenly. “There aren’t any other Avengers emergencies right now, are there? If someone really did come from Asgard, we’d better have an Asgardian meet them instead of a S.H.I.E.L.D. team.”

Thor looked gratefully at Steve. “You speak wisely, my friend,” he said. “Farewell, Avengers. I will be back as soon as I--”

“Just a minute!” Fury interrupted with vehemence. “Rogers may be the lead Avenger, but he doesn’t call all the shots. Thor, sit back down, and we’ll talk about this.”

“Thor’s probably the best person to send on something like this,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “For one thing, you’ll save on jet fuel.”

Fury ignored her. “Thor, the last time you left here, you disappeared for months. What are we supposed to do? Let you vanish into the sunset and expect you back when you feel like it?”

“I give you my word that I will return,” Thor said. “If all goes well, I will be here within the week.”

Fury shook his head. “Not good enough. I need a way to reach you.”

“Why don’t you just give him a phone, then?” Tony said impatiently. 

“Thor, do you know how to use a phone?” Bruce asked.

Thor sighed. “I have used a phone more times than Captain Rogers has.” 

“That true, Steve?” Tony grinned at Steve, who made a face back at him. “Thor, wait up just a minute. I’ve got a phone for you.” He hoisted himself out of his chair and hurried out of the room.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Nick Fury said, poking around on his computer screen. “The S.H.I.E.L.D. council has their hands full rebuilding the organization after Hydra. The last thing we need is a rogue Avenger getting into trouble when the S.H.I.E.L.D. team out there can handle the situation perfectly well.”

Nobody replied to him. Tony hurried back into the room and handed Thor a phone. “Here it is. Don’t lose it mid-flight or use it for hammer practice.”

Thor nodded. “I will keep it safe.” He stowed it away in a pocket. “Farewell, my friends.” 

After Thor left, Fury gave all the remaining Avengers a withering glance from his one good eye. “After that, I’m not likely to bring up any more current events,” he said. “The rest of you might get the idea to go to the four corners of the globe. Meeting’s over. I’ll call you if I need you.” With a swish of his long black coat, he was gone.

“Whew!” Clint said, stretching back in his chair. “You think we should all pitch in and get Fury plane tickets to a place where he can relax? The Bahamas or something?”

“He’d find something down there that needed S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers,” Natasha said, propping her feet on the table. “I don’t think Fury knows how to relax.”

“Maybe it’s the name.” Steve grinned. Everyone else groaned.

Just then Pepper appeared in the doorway. “Is the meeting over so soon?” she asked. 

Before the Avengers had time to start explaining, Pepper waved a clipboard in front of Tony’s face. “Tony, I need you in my office. We’ve got to go over some Stark Industries paperwork.”

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” Tony said, collecting his coffee mug and running his hand through his disheveled hair. 

Pepper turned to Steve. “I believe Peggy is waiting for you,” she said. “Avengers official business.”

“Avengers official business?” Steve asked.

Pepper started steering Tony towards the door. “You’ll find her in the common area, I think,” she called back over her shoulder to Steve. “She’ll explain everything.”

Bewildered, Steve started for the common area, ignoring the snickers of Natasha and Clint behind him as they speculated about what the “official business” was likely to be.

* * * * *

It was still incredible to Steve that Peggy was there in Avengers Tower. When he came to the common area and saw a familiar brown curly head above the back of the couch, he had to stop to catch a deep breath. It wasn’t his imagination. She was real.

“Peggy.” Steve breathed her name, and she turned. Her smile was radiant.

“Steve!” Peggy jumped up from the couch. Whatever she had been reading hit the floor in a rustle of pages. “Is your meeting over already? I wanted to talk to you. That is,” she added, “Captain Rogers, I have an official matter of business to discuss with the head of the Avengers.”

Steve raised his hand in salute. “At your service, ma’am.”

They sat on the couch, and Peggy explained about her conversation with Pepper. “Is there anything I can do to help the Avengers?” she asked. “I imagine things now are quite different from the way they were for the Howling Commandos, and I’m no super-soldier, but you know I’m a good fighter and a good spy.” Her face was determined.

Steve remembered the fire in those brown eyes from countless skirmishes in the European theatre of the war. The Howling Commandos had been the best of the best, and they had all looked up to Peggy. 

Steve smiled. “If you want to join us, there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side,” he said. “Let’s talk to Tony about getting you some gear.”

“Wonderful.” Peggy’s face was wreathed in delight. “You don’t know what a refreshing change that is from the SSR, where half the men still want me to answer the phone, file their papers, and take their lunch orders.” 

“Lunch orders?” Steve’s face was incredulous. “Peg, please tell me you punched them.” 

Peggy laughed. “A few of them,” she said. “Mostly when they thought I was working with Howard Stark to commit treason against the United States.”

Steve shook his head. “If any of them had seen you during the war, they’d have known better than to think that,” he said. “Speaking of Howard Stark, have you heard anything more about the time machine?”

“No. I’m going to talk to Tony about that today.” Peggy’s face was suddenly serious. “Steve, if Tony can’t get the time machine to work, I’ll never see any of the people I knew in 1948 again.” 

Steve took one of Peggy’s hands in his, stroking it gently with his thumb. He vividly remembered the shock of waking up in the 21st century and learning that nearly everyone he knew was gone. 

“And if he does think he’s built it successfully,” Peggy said, “how does one test a time machine? What if it’s just as bad as Howard’s, and goes to the Middle Ages or far into the future?”

“We could get Tony to test it for us,” Steve said. “At least he could build another one if he got stuck in the wrong time period.”

Peggy gave a small smile. “And if he went to the right time period, Howard would have the shock of his life.”

“Might do him some good,” Steve said. “That’s settled, then. Tony tries it first.”

“I think Pepper might not be so happy about that,” Peggy said. “She’s his girlfriend, right?”

“Right.”

“She must be quite the woman,” Peggy said. “I have a hard time imagining any woman actually managing a Stark, but she seems to do it beautifully _and_ stay sane!”

“Tony’s a lucky guy,” Steve said absently, admiring the way Peggy’s curls caught the sunlight from the window. “But I know one guy who’s even luckier.”

* * * * *

Before lunch, Steve and Peggy went to find Tony in his lab. The inventor was busy mopping up a wet patch of floor.

“Watch your step,” he said. “I need to make a robot that dries the floor after putting out fires.”

“Fires?” Steve sniffed. Yes, there was a lingering burning smell.

“Nothing to worry about,” Tony said, mopping vigorously. “One of the components of that time machine has an overheating problem. I’ve got it figured out now.”

“That’s one of the things we came to ask you about,” Peggy said. “How are things going with the time machine?”

“Well, so far I’ve figured out about twenty-five things my dad did wrong,” Tony said. “I still haven’t figured out how his date and time selector was supposed to work. That’s the single most important thing about a time machine. A GPS, if you will.”

“GPS?” Peggy gave him a blank look.

“It’s a thing people use now instead of maps,” Steve told her. “It tells you where you are and can give you directions to anywhere you want to go.” 

Peggy shook her head. “Now that just sounds too good to be true,” she said. “It sounds like another one of Howard’s invention ideas.”

“Anyway,” Tony said, “until I figure out how to set the date and time for this thing, it’s useless. The whole idea is fascinating, though. I should get Bruce in here to see if he has any ideas. We’ll keep working on it.”

“In that case,” Peggy said, “while you’re working on the time machine, Steve has an Avengers question for you.”

Tony looked quizzically at Steve. 

“Peggy’s going to help us out,” Steve said. “She fought with the Howling Commandos. She’s as good a fighter as anyone on the team. Can you get her some gear?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Nick Fury’s going to have a heart attack when he learns about this,” he said. “Agent Peggy Carter, returned from the 1940s and fighting with the Avengers.” He leaned on the mop handle and surveyed Steve and Peggy critically. “I’ve got an idea. How about a nice red, white, and blue outfit, with a Union Jack--”

He broke off under a withering stare from Peggy. “All right, all right!” he said. “Too bad. It would have been perfect—Captain America and Captain Britain. Come on, let’s find you something else.”


	7. In Which Peggy Gets a Uniform and Nat and Clint Ask Steve About His Love Life

Tony liked to tease, but he liked to invent tactical gear even better. In no time he had drawn up all kinds of plans and designs for Peggy’s uniform on his hologram table and pulled out swatches of a dozen different materials. Gone were the bulky titanium-alloy vests of Peggy’s time in the SSR. Tony had improved on his father’s inventions and come up with materials that were even more lightweight and bullet-resistant than Kevlar. Although the word Kevlar meant nothing to Peggy (and not much to Steve either), Tony’s inventions were impressive. 

“How am I ever supposed to decide on anything?” Peggy shook her head, fingering a piece of blue fabric. 

“What’s your fighting style?” Tony asked. “I only ask because Nat spends most of her fights turning somersaults and jumping on people’s shoulders.”

Steve grinned. “The best word to describe Peggy’s fighting style is ‘vicious,’” he said. “Uses the opponent’s size and weight against them. She taught me a few things in boot camp back when I was a 90-pound kid with asthma.”

“I know I need a uniform I can run in,” Peggy said. “And kick people if I have to. And it needs to have pockets.” She squinted at the blue uniform models hovering above Tony’s hologram table.

“Women and their pockets,” Tony said, grinning. “Pepper has been petitioning all the major clothing manufacturers to put more pockets in women’s clothes.”

“Really?” Peggy sighed. “Seventy years in the future, and they still haven’t figured out that women need pockets? Steve, are you sure this is really 2014?”

Steve smiled wryly. “I guess not enough people have complained yet,” he said. “Maybe you could add to Pepper’s petition.”

Peggy shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Tony, this suit is _going_ to have pockets. I went through enough during the war with those awful pocket-less Army fatigues they gave the women.” She glanced at Steve. “I did appreciate the gentlemanly help of a certain soldier who was willing to carry armloads of things for me when necessary.”

Steve’s ears turned red, and Tony grinned.

With input from the two men, Peggy designed her uniform: loose dark blue pants, similar in cut to her Army fatigues but with nice deep pockets, and a close-fitting dark blue jacket, nearly bulletproof. To go with the suit she picked brown combat boots, a tactical belt, a concealed holster, and slim-fitting gloves. 

Tony promised to get Peggy’s outfit done by that evening. “I’ll just need your measurements,” he said. “J.A.R.V.I.S. has got a measurement scanner—all you have to do is say the word and stand still.”

“What?” Peggy still wasn’t used to Tony’s AI. “You can do things like that?”

“Lady, you have no idea,” Tony said. “J.A.R.V.I.S. can do just about anything.” His face was proud. J.A.R.V.I.S. was his favorite and best invention, even more so than the Iron Man suit.

“All right, scan away,” Peggy said, standing stiffly. “This had better not be some kind of X-ray. I don’t want J.A.R.V.I.S. to have pictures of my bones, thank you.”

Tony laughed so hard he had to clutch the edge of the hologram table to keep from falling over.

Almost as soon as J.A.R.V.I.S. had completed the measurement scan, Pepper appeared in the lab doorway with a clipboard. “Oh, there you are, Peggy,” she said. “Are you free for a few minutes? I want to go through your wardrobe and see if I can make any improvements.”

“Your timing is impeccable,” Tony said. “We just finished putting together an outfit for Peggy—although I’m still crushed she wouldn’t go with the red, white, and blue.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow at Tony, squeezed Steve’s hand, and bustled away with Pepper.

* * * * *

Steve headed down the hallway from the lab and was almost immediately corralled by Natasha and Clint.

“Rogers, we’ve got some advice for you,” Natasha said, her mouth quirking into a smile.

“Oh, really.” Steve raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help grinning. “Let me guess: my love life.”

“Yup.” Clint grinned at him. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else, unless you want Tony listening in.”

Steve let Clint and Natasha drag him down the hall and into an empty conference room. “Well?” he asked, leaning back against a table.

Natasha and Clint stood facing him, arms crossed, grins on their faces.

“So Clint and I were talking,” Natasha began, “and we were thinking that you could use a tactical diversion.”

Steve blinked. “A tactical what?”

“Diversion,” Clint said. 

“What?”

“We’ve both seen the way you and Peggy look at each other,” Natasha said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Rogers, I’ve known you for a while now. In the last 24 hours you’ve turned into a completely different person. Who knew Captain America could look _happy_?”

Steve felt his ears getting red. 

“Oh, I was that bad before, was I?” he retorted.

“Terrible,” Clint said with a grin. 

“Grumpiest guy on the team, including the Hulk,” Natasha said.

“Well, thanks!” Steve crossed his arms and leaned farther back against the table. “But what does this all have to do with a tactical diversion?”

Natasha got right to the point. “Clint and I figured maybe the only thing that’s holding you up from proposing is that you haven’t got the ring yet. We figured we’d give you a chance to sneak out to a jewelry store.”

The red from Steve’s ears was creeping across his entire face. “Is that what you two were snickering about at the end of Fury’s meeting?”

“Maybe,” Natasha said. She fixed him with a stern eye. “Rogers, you are going to go out and buy that ring. Unless people didn’t wear engagement rings in the 1940s.”

“We’ll cover for you here,” Clint added. “If Peggy wants to know where you went, we’ll tell her you had to go on an Avengers mission. It won’t even be a lie—she’s an Avenger now!”

Steve took a deep breath and grinned at his two friends. “All right, you’ve got me,” he said. “I do want to get a ring. But I don’t know the first thing about buying rings.”

Natasha and Clint looked at each other. “Clint does,” Natasha said. 

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he processed this piece of information. “I didn’t know--”

“Confidential,” Clint said, his face serious. “I can’t tell you if you ask. But I do know a good jeweler who won’t be out to cheat you.”

Steve tried to repress his curiosity about why Clint knew about buying rings. “All right, I won’t ask. Any tips for when I get to the jeweler’s?”

“You should figure out your budget before you get there,” Clint said. “Wait a minute, do you know Peggy’s ring size?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I never thought about that,” he said. “She’s never worn a ring since I met her. I’d have noticed.”

“Most women know their ring size, even if they don’t wear rings regularly,” Natasha said. “You want somebody to sneakily ask her?”

“Nothing is sneaky enough for Peggy,” Steve said positively. “She’d know right away that something was up.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Clint said. “You could get one a bit too big and get it resized later.”

Steve shook his head. “Sounds disappointing.”

Natasha slapped a hand to her forehead suddenly. “I’ve got it!” she announced. “Tony measured her for a uniform, right? We can get her finger measurement from J.A.R.V.I.S.’s scans!”

“That’s a great idea!” Steve brightened up. “Wait, does that mean Tony’s going to be in on this too?”

Natasha grinned at him. “Don’t worry, we won’t subject you to Tony’s wisecracks,” she said. “I can get you that measurement without saying a word to anyone about it.”

The plan ended up working out beautifully. Natasha snuck into Tony’s lab while he was occupied in the back corner and not looking her direction. Both Natasha and Clint helped Steve convert the finger measurement into the right ring size, and with a lot of advice from Clint about choosing stones and settings, Steve set out on his motorcycle, heart pounding. During the war, he had sometimes let himself dream about buying a ring for Peggy. That dream had died as he went down on the Valkyrie. Now that same dream was coming true.

* * * * *

It took Pepper and Peggy a long time to go through Peggy’s wardrobe. Pepper said Peggy still needed a lot of clothes, and there was no time like the present to figure out what they should shop for. Peggy insisted that there were plenty of clothes there that she could wear already, and even more if Pepper didn’t mind some slight alterations, but Pepper was firm. “Half the things in here don’t even remotely fit you. It’s not wartime anymore, and you don’t have to wear the same two or three outfits all the time. I want to take you shopping at the next opportunity.”

Peggy finally gave in. She and Pepper made a clothes shopping list with the help of a flat glowing thing that Pepper called a tablet. It was astonishing how someone could see the inventory of almost every clothing store in New York on one little screen. 

When they finished, it was almost dinnertime. Peggy was surprised when she went into dinner and didn’t see a familiar blond head among those around the table.

“Where’s Steve?” she asked.

“He went on an Avengers mission,” Natasha said, spearing a green bean with her fork. 

“What? What kind of mission?” Tony asked. “Don’t tell me Thor’s in trouble already. He just left this morning!”

“Classified mission,” Clint said with his mouth full. “It’s not Thor.”

Tony shook his head. “Strange. I ought to actually read Fury’s emails sometimes, and then maybe I wouldn’t be out of the loop.”

“There wasn’t anything about another mission in Fury’s emails,” Bruce told him. “Ow!” He stopped suddenly, and Natasha looked smug.

Peggy sipped her water thoughtfully. There was something going on here, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe Steve would fill her in when he got back.


	8. In Which Peggy and Natasha Have a Friendly Sparring Competition

It was past Steve’s dinnertime when he headed back towards the Tower on his motorcycle, the ring box tucked safely into his pocket. Even with all Clint’s advice, picking out the ring had been a bewildering task. 

Natasha corralled him as soon as he got in the garage. “Your girl’s suspicious, Rogers,” she said. “She was asking where you were, and Tony and Bruce made things worse by getting curious.”

Steve smiled wryly. “I figured she might suspect something,” he said, parking the motorcycle. “After all, she was one of the best spies the U.S. Army had during the war. She’s used to people trying to fool her.”

“You’d better have a good excuse ready if she asks you what you were doing,” Natasha warned him. “You’re not a good liar, Rogers. Your ears turn red.”

“I oughtta invest in a pair of earmuffs,” Steve retorted, and started up the stairs.

He found Peggy all the way up in the lab, waiting impatiently for Tony’s machines to finish putting together her uniform. She was leaning on the edge of the holograph table and filling Tony in on Howard’s most recent experiments from 1948. A stack of completed uniform pieces sat on the holograph table in front of Peggy, probably because every other inch of table and counter space in the room was taken up by Tony’s inventions.

“Steve!” she said, turning as Steve came through the doorway. “You’re back!”

“Yep.” Steve grinned. “Is that your uniform in that machine?” He pointed to the huge Stark Industries sewing robot, which was putting Peggy’s jacket together without a single person having to lay a hand on it.

Peggy nodded. “It’s almost done.” The sewing machine whirred, turned the jacket around, and began sewing another seam. 

Tony turned to Steve. “Well, Rogers, I hear you had some kind of classified mission earlier.” His face was serious, but Steve saw amusement lurking behind his eyes. 

“That’s right,” Steve said, keeping his face carefully straight. “Need to know only.”

Peggy surveyed Steve with her head on one side, her lips slightly pursed in a way that made him want to kiss her. “This had better not be the kind of classified mission where you go out and do something rash like jumping out of a plane without a parachute.”

“Did Natasha tell you about that?” Steve grimaced. “No planes on this mission. It was a short one, and successfully completed.” From the looks on Peggy’s and Tony’s faces, Steve could tell he was just raising their suspicions more. “Hey, the sewing machine’s done!” Steve hurried over to the machine where Peggy’s finished uniform jacket sat neatly pressed. 

“Wonderful!” Peggy scooped up the pile of finished uniform pieces and added the jacket on top of the pile. “I’ll be right back.” She whisked out of the lab.

Tony turned to Steve, a quizzical look on his face. “So am I right in saying that there’s something you’re hiding from us?”

Steve sighed. If Tony kept on like this in front of Peggy, there was no way Steve’s secret could stay secret for long. “All right, I’ll tell you, but only if you swear not to breathe a word to Peggy or anybody else,” he said firmly, looking Tony in the eye.

Tony backed up, his hands in the air. “Whoa, Cap!” he said. “You didn’t tell me you were out robbing banks! I promise, whatever it is, I won’t tell!”

Steve couldn’t help smiling at Tony’s panicked expression. “If I’d robbed a bank, I wouldn’t be back here hanging around the Tower,” he said. “I was out buying an engagement ring.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “For a guy who just got his girlfriend back yesterday, you move awfully fast!” He sat down on the edge of the hologram table. “You think she’ll say yes?”

Steve’s mind went back to a sun-warmed park bench overlooking the Hudson River, to Peggy in his arms with her head resting over his heart. 

“Cap, you’re a million miles away,” Tony said. “Wow. I take that as a yes?”

Steve came back to earth with a start. Oh. Tony had asked him a question. 

He took a deep breath and grinned at Tony. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Got any big plans for the proposal?” Tony pressed. “Times Square? The Eiffel Tower? A baseball stadium? Actually, I don’t see you as the kind of guy who proposes in a big public place. More like a nice little restaurant. I can get you reservations to any restaurant in the City, just say the word.”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got a plan.” He wouldn’t say any more than that, and Tony let the matter rest and showed Steve his research for the time machine.

The lab door opened behind Steve, and he turned around. “Wow.”

Peggy stood in the doorway, a vision of strength and beauty in her new blue uniform, a smile playing across her face. “What do you think?”

It took all of Steve’s strength of will not to drop on one knee and propose to her right there. “Wow,” he said again. “You’re—you’re incredible, Peggy.” Peggy’s warm brown eyes gazed back at him the way they had when he came back from rescuing Bucky and the 107th, and Steve’s heart felt as though it were beating out of his chest.

Tony cleared his throat loudly from behind Steve. “You ought to try the suit out,” he said. “Anybody around here you wanna punch?”

Peggy laughed. “Are you volunteering to be the test subject?”

“Why don’t you ask Natasha?” Tony suggested hastily. “That’s one sparring match I’d love to get on camera.”

Steve grinned. “Me too.”

“All right, I’ll ask her,” Peggy said. “But Steve, I’m not budging an inch until you march down to your suite and get some dinner. If you don’t eat something pretty soon you’re going to fall over. I know you.” 

Steve laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * * * *

The sparring match between Peggy and Natasha was something to behold. All the other Avengers (except Thor, who was still gone) assembled in the gym to watch. Steve put together a huge dojo mat for the floor, and Tony brought out folding chairs, a cooler of soda, and several bags of chips.

“Did you seriously bring refreshments?” Peggy asked Tony. 

The inventor grinned at Peggy. “Are you kidding? This is gonna be the most exciting show we’ve seen in the Tower since the Battle of New York.”

“Steve, are you seeing this?” Peggy asked. “He really _is_ Howard’s son.”

“Except Howard probably would have brought fondue,” Steve said, and felt his face getting beet-red. “Forget I said that.” He ducked his head to avoid seeing Peggy’s expression.

“Fondue, eh?” Tony asked. “Is there something I’m missing here?” 

“Nothing at all,” Peggy told Tony briskly. “Your father also kept champagne in his car. And chocolates in his front entryway. At ease, Captain Rogers.” She strolled away towards the dojo mat, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief and sat up straight again. The last time he had said anything about fondue was right before Peggy shot at his shield, when he’d thought fondue was a euphemism for something else.

“I sense an inside story,” Tony said to Steve. “I’ve never seen you blush like that before. Care to share?”

“No,” Steve said hastily.

Peggy and Natasha prepared for combat. They had put away all their weapons, since they didn’t want to actually hurt each other, but they kept their uniforms.

“This is a bit unusual for me,” Peggy told Natasha as the two women faced each other. “I’m not used to fighting people who aren’t trying to kill me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Natasha grinned. “Don’t worry too much about it,” she said. “If it gets too rough, I’ll let you know.”

“Are we placing bets?” Clint asked, settling into a chair and popping open a can of soda. “I’d go with Nat.”

“You remembering Budapest, Barton?” Natasha called to him. Clint grinned.

“That’s a tough one,” Tony said. “I’ve seen Nat fight, but on the other hand, those stories my father always told about Agent Carter were terrifying.”

“I’d bet on Natasha,” Bruce said without hesitation. “Fighting styles must have evolved since World War II, right?”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve said. “You haven’t seen the Howling Commandos in action.”

“Rogers, you shouldn’t get to bet on this one,” Natasha told him with a grin. “You have inside information nobody else has.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve got enough to worry about without arranging the betting, Romanoff.”

At a signal from Tony, the match began. Natasha was quicker and more acrobatic, but Peggy put more brute force into her fighting and was good at redirecting Natasha’s energy. 

“Dang,” Clint said, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m glad I’m not fighting either one of them.”

“You haven’t seen anything,” Steve said. “They’re not trying to hurt each other.”

Natasha vaulted onto Peggy’s shoulders and brought Peggy to the mat. Peggy twisted out from under her and rolled away. Natasha rushed toward her. Peggy caught her arm and redirected her so she rushed past and landed on her back.

“You fight like someone I fought before,” Peggy panted, catching her breath. “Dottie Underwood. She was a Russian spy.”

“I was a Russian spy,” Natasha said, getting up and approaching Peggy with caution. “Until Clint brought me in.” She aimed a kick to Peggy’s head. Peggy dodged it, kicking back. Natasha dodged. They circled each other.

“Wow,” Tony said with his mouth full. “I thought I’d seen everything when Nat took down Happy in less than a second.”

Peggy rushed toward Natasha with a jab and a right hook. Natasha deflected the blows and spun backwards, kicking Peggy in the hip. Peggy landed hard, rolled, and tripped Natasha.

“I can’t believe it,” Bruce said. “They’re terrific!”

Steve grinned. “ _I_ can believe it.” 

The timer Tony had set went off with a shrill beep. “That’s round one, ladies!” Tony announced. “Need water bottles? Towels? Good comebacks?”

“Do we have a point system here?” Natasha asked, grabbing the water bottle Tony held out to her. 

“That’s tough,” Clint said. “What if we count every time somebody gets knocked down?”

“In that case they’re even,” Bruce said. “I’ll keep score.” He pulled a notebook and pen out of his pocket.

“How many rounds are we doing?” Peggy asked, still lying flat on her back.

“Depends how long you two want to keep going,” Tony said.

Peggy rolled to her feet. “I don’t know about you, Miss Romanoff,” she said, with a flash of her eyes and a grin in Natasha’s direction, “but I’m barely warmed up.”

“Likewise, Miss Carter,” Natasha said with a smirk. “You ready for round two?”

They sparred for five rounds in all before deciding to call it a day. Panting and sweaty, both women sank down on chairs on the sidelines and grabbed bottles of water.

“What’s the score?” Peggy asked, pushing damp hair back from her face as Steve came up behind her and massaged her shoulders. 

“I can’t believe it,” Bruce said, holding up his notebook. “It’s a tie.”

“And neither of them even fought dirty,” Clint said. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nat bit me?”

“In my defense, he was brainwashed and attacking me,” Natasha said, tossing the cap of her water bottle in Clint’s direction.

“Brainwashed?” Peggy asked.

“Before the Battle of New York,” Clint said. “Loki’s scepter. Cap, did you tell her about the scepter?”

“Not much,” Steve said. “I should. Especially since Sitwell and Rumlow had it last. It’s gotta be in some Hydra stronghold somewhere.”

“In my wildest dreams I never would have believed that Hydra would still be alive and kicking in the year 2014,” Peggy said with a sigh. “Well, that’s what this uniform is for—fighting Hydra and anybody else that poses a problem. Thank you, Tony. It’s the best combat gear I’ve ever had.”

“No problem,” Tony said, waving a hand grandly. “Glad to help.”

The group broke up soon after that, with Peggy and Natasha giving each other big hugs and promising to spar again regularly. Tony and Bruce went to work on the time machine, Clint had to take a phone call, and Natasha said she was going to take a shower and work on a project before bed.

Steve wondered if all the other Avengers had come up with excuses to leave him alone with Peggy. If they had, he didn’t mind.

“Walk you upstairs?” Steve asked Peggy, extending a hand to help her up from her chair.

Peggy took the offered hand and rose to her feet. “Of course, Captain.” 

Peggy’s hair was tangled, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glowing in a way that made Steve’s breath hitch in his throat. Wordlessly he leaned down towards her, and Peggy caught his shirt collar and pulled him into a kiss that left him breathless.


	9. In Which Best-Laid Plans Go Somewhat Astray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter has some scary (but not graphic) moments.

“I want to ask you something,” Steve asked Peggy as they headed up the stairs to the Avengers’ living quarters. 

Peggy looked at him suspiciously. Steve only used that tone when he was about to say something important. “What?” she asked. If he was thinking of proposing—which she wouldn’t put past him, especially since his behavior that afternoon had been unusual—she was going to have to put a stop to it. No woman wanted to be proposed to in a stairwell, even if the stairwell belonged to a building as expensive as Avengers Tower.

Steve stopped on the stairs and took her hands in his, looking down at her with intense blue eyes. “Peggy, we still haven’t had that dance.”

Peggy felt her face break into a smile. “Then we’ll have to remedy that, Captain.” 

“Really?” Steve beamed all over his face. “How about tomorrow night? There’s a place at 67th and Central Park that was here back in the old days when I lived in New York. It has good food, a dance floor, music from the 40s, a view of the park—I’ve never been there before but I hear it’s amazing.” 

“Oh, Steve, it sounds perfect. I’d love to.” Peggy found her voice shaking. She’d had so many dreams just like this since the Valkyrie went down. In the dream Steve would approach her, boyish and awkward and adorable, asking her to dance with him. They would go to the Stork Club, the height of fashion and luxury in New York at the time. Sometimes in Peggy’s dream she and Steve got to dance together, his hand firmly on her waist and his eyes gazing into hers. Other times the dream would turn into a nightmare, and Steve would turn into a Hydra operative or some other villain totally unlike himself. After every one of these dreams, Peggy would wake alone in the dark, grief hitting her like a tank as she came back to reality. Steve was gone. They would never have their dance.

It seemed impossible that Peggy was here in the future, with Steve Rogers alive and well and asking her to have dinner and go dancing with him. But here she was. 

Steve looked concerned. “I know it’s not the Stork Club, but they went out of business when I was in the ice,” he said. “Peggy, are you all right?”

Peggy smiled at him through the mist of tears that had suddenly arisen. “Yes,” she said. “I was just thinking about all the times I dreamed we got to have our dance.” 

One big tear escaped and rolled down Peggy’s face, and Steve gently brushed it away, stroking her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Peg,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I missed our dance.” 

He was very close to her, and his warmth was comforting. Peggy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Hold me, Steve,” she said, almost in a whisper. “I need to know you’re not a dream this time.”

Steve folded her next to his heart, solid and real and warm, and the world slowed to a stop as she rested in his arms. 

“What’s your verdict, Agent?” Steve murmured into her hair some time later. “Am I real?”

Peggy laughed shakily, tipping up her head to look at his face. “Let me check one more thing,” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “Mmm. Definitely real.” 

* * * * *

At precisely six PM the next evening, as Peggy was in her room putting the last finishing touches on her outfit, there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Steve partially obscured by a bunch of red roses. 

“Peggy,” he said, eyes shining, then seemed at a loss for words. His expression brought Peggy back to a night at a bar in war-torn Europe, when she had worn civilian clothes for once—a red dress and heels—and shown up to talk to him. Officially, she had needed to talk to him about testing equipment with Howard Stark. Unofficially, she had wanted to tell him something more personal: after the war, she might even go dancing—with the right partner. Steve hadn’t said much, but the look of adoration on his face had been more eloquent than words. 

That same look of adoration brought a lump into Peggy’s throat, and she pulled herself together and reached out for the bunch of roses. “Steve. Thank you—they’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Steve said, with a look that made Peggy duck her head and sniff the roses to cover the flush that spread across her cheeks. Who would have thought that a man as awkward as Steve Rogers could make her blush?

“You’re looking well yourself, Captain,” Peggy said, taking in Steve’s immaculate navy suit and carefully slicked-back hair and appreciating how red his face got in return.

Peggy didn’t have anything to put the flowers in, so she and Steve stopped by the common area on their way out to get a water pitcher that would serve as a vase. Tony was stretched out on a couch in the common area, doing something on an electronic tablet and waiting for dinner. For a wonder he didn’t say anything teasing—he merely raised one eyebrow and said, “Have fun, kids!”

Arm in arm, Steve and Peggy left the Tower. “Do you want to take a cab?” Steve asked. “Or actually, if you don’t mind my driving, we could go on my motorcycle.”

Peggy looked around at the city bathed in evening light. “Why don’t we walk?” she suggested. “It’s not that far to the park.” 

Steve looked dubiously down at Peggy’s shoes, and Peggy swatted at him in mock outrage. “Steven Grant Rogers, you’ve seen me march more than 25 miles with a heavy pack. I can manage a few city blocks in heels, thank you very much.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right! I believe you!” 

Peggy pretended to look sternly at him, but she couldn’t help breaking into a dimpled smile. “Very well, Captain,” she said, and took his arm again. “Shall we?”

They strolled down the streets of New York, with Steve pointing out new buildings and explaining about the changes in modern automobiles. Everything was bigger, shinier, and busier these days.

“It’s strange,” Peggy said, as they waited at a traffic light. “I know everything’s more modern, but there’s something else different about the city now. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Is it the air?” Steve asked. “Air’s cleaner now. One of the first things I noticed when I came out of the ice. It would have been nice when I was a boy and had asthma.”

Peggy sniffed. “I think that’s it!” she said. “If you close your eyes, you almost wouldn’t know you were in the city at all. There’s hardly any smoke in the air!” 

Steve laughed. “It still smells like exhaust and burned food and horses and garbage trucks,” he said. “Good old New York.”

They approached Columbus Circle, which had been a ghastly mess of convoluted traffic going every which way in the 1940s. Now it was a neatly-arranged circle of one-way traffic, with brightly-painted pedestrian crossings at convenient points.

“This is so much nicer than it was,” Peggy said, as they started across the circle. “I really don’t mind—”

Out of nowhere came the sharp pop of two gunshots. Steve crumpled forward to the ground, right in the middle of the intersection.

“Steve!” Peggy dropped to the ground next to him, whipping out her gun from its concealed holster and praying cars wouldn’t run them over. Where was the gunman? 

A man was crouching in the bushes at the center of the traffic circle, his weapon aimed at them. Peggy aimed and fired. The man fell back with a cry.

“Peggy.” Steve’s voice was labored, but it sent a rush of gladness through her heart because it meant he was alive. For a few moments she had feared the worst.

There could be another shooter. Peggy looked wildly around, gun in hand. Traffic in the circle had come to a complete stop, and several people were running towards her and Steve.

“There’s a gunman in those bushes!” Peggy shouted. “Look out! There could be more!”

“Peggy, you can go after him,” Steve panted, pushing himself into a sitting position. “I’ll be all right.”

Steve was always the one to believe Peggy could take care of herself in times of crisis. She shot him a grateful look and dashed towards the bushes where the gunman had been, leaving Steve surrounded by the people who had gotten out of their cars.

The gunman was behind the bushes, scrabbling for his gun on the ground. Blood stained his pants near his hip where Peggy had shot him.

Peggy kicked the gun away from him. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice icy. 

The man glared at her with wild eyes under a thatch of black hair. “One of many,” he said, and ground his teeth. “Hail Hydra.”

Peggy dived towards him, but she was too late. The man was foaming at the mouth. He had crunched down on the cyanide pill that Hydra operatives kept on them in case of capture. His head fell to the concrete. He was dead.

Peggy looked quickly around for other possible assailants, but there was no one. Looking back, she saw several people crowded around the spot where Steve had been sitting in the street. 

She raced back and elbowed her way through the bystanders. “Give him some air!” she cried. Steve was lying on the ground now, and Peggy’s heart clenched in fear. “Steve!” Blood was creeping across his white shirt under his suit coat.

“Peggy.” He didn’t open his eyes, but he slowly stretched out a hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

“I called an ambulance,” a loud masculine voice said from somewhere above Peggy’s head.

“Isn’t that Captain America?” a female voice shrieked. “Is he dying?”

Peggy ignored them all as she unbuttoned Steve’s suit coat. Underneath, his shirt was soaked with blood on the right side of his abdomen. It looked bad.

Peggy whipped her handkerchief out of her purse and gently pulled Steve’s shirt up. There were two bullet wounds, fairly close together. Peggy pressed the handkerchief over the wounds and held it down firmly.

“Peggy,” Steve said, and Peggy jerked her head around to look at him. His eyes were open now, but his face was drawn with pain. “Call Tony. On my phone. It’s in my pocket.”

With her free hand, Peggy gently maneuvered Steve’s phone out of his pants pocket, careful not to jostle him too much. The phone was a dark rectangle of plastic and glass. Peggy had seen Steve typing on it, but she had never noticed how he turned the screen on. “What do I do?” she asked.

“Need help?” a voice said above her head. 

Peggy squinted up at the person who had offered help, just as flashing lights appeared in her peripheral vision. The ambulance was here. 

“Peggy.” Steve’s voice gently brought Peggy back to him. “Press the button on the side of the phone. Then swipe your finger up from the bottom of the glass.” 

Peggy pushed the button, fumbling the phone in her hand as she kept pressure on Steve’s wound with the other hand. The phone screen lit up. She was surprised to see a photo of herself on the screen—not the old photo she remembered from Steve’s compass, but a photo someone must have taken the night before when she was sparring with Natasha. Peggy swiped up and was confronted with a number pad.

“Now what?” she asked Steve, only to find Steve was looking into the sky towards Avengers Tower instead of at her. 

“Never mind,” Steve said painfully. “Tony’s on his way.”

Everything happened quickly after that. The men from the ambulance rushed in and took over first aid measures for Steve just as a red-and-gold suit of armor swooped down from the sky. As the suit of armor landed, the man inside popped open his helmet and proved to be Tony Stark.

“All of you, clear the area,” he announced to the bystanders who were still watching the paramedics work on Steve. “Now!”

The crowd dispersed, leaving Steve, Peggy, Tony, and the paramedics. Peggy realized she was still sitting on the concrete, holding Steve’s phone in one hand. 

“Are you all right?” Tony said, helping her up. “Are you bleeding?”

Peggy looked down. Her right arm and hand were covered in drying blood, and there were dark patches on her red dress. “No,” she said. “That’s Steve’s blood. He got shot. It was Hydra.” She motioned towards the bushes at the center of Columbus Circle. “The gunman’s back there. He’s dead.”

Tony hustled over to the dead gunman, only stopping long enough to direct the paramedics to bring Steve to Avengers Tower instead of the hospital. Apparently the Tower had a medical facility somewhere above Tony’s lab.

Peggy hovered close as the men worked to stabilize Steve and get him into the ambulance. Steve was pale and in pain, and he still had two bullets in him. 

“Let me ride in the ambulance,” Peggy demanded as the men prepared for departure.

“Are you family?” one of the men asked.

“I’m his girlfriend,” Peggy said, giving the man a look that tended to make the toughest guys in the SSR back down. “I’m coming with him.”

* * * * *

Back at the Tower, doctors whisked Steve into an operating room. Forbidden to follow him, Peggy sank into a chair in the hallway outside. 

She’d been in situations like this before. During the war, plenty of people had gotten shot and otherwise injured. She’d been shot. Steve had been shot. They’d all had their share of narrow escapes. Even with the war over, Peggy’s life hadn’t been safe with people like Dottie Underwood and Whitney Frost running around. None of that made her feel better about what had just happened to Steve, though.

“Peggy?” Natasha’s voice brought her out of her reverie. She glanced up. 

Natasha looked concerned. “You all right?” she asked. “I heard what happened to Rogers.” She shot a glance at the operating room door. “He’ll be all right. He’s been shot in the stomach before. Earlier this year, actually.”

“He told me about that,” Peggy said. “It must have been worse, because it was Bucky Hydra sent after him that time. I still can’t believe those horrible things they did to Bucky.”

Natasha nodded. “Tony said the shooter today was Hydra too.”

Peggy sighed. “I could kick myself for not thinking of that. If I’d been quicker I could have stopped him from taking the cyanide, and we could have gotten some answers out of him.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Natasha said. “Nobody could have expected it.” She looked at Peggy more closely. “Is that blood on your arm?”

“It’s Steve’s.” Peggy found herself tearing up. Back in 1946, when she thought Steve was dead, she had gone to great lengths to protect the one remaining vial of his blood from the greed of people who stood to make a lot of money out of it. Now she knew Steve was alive, but she hadn’t been able to protect him.

“You know what?” Natasha said gently. “You should go get yourself cleaned up and eat a sandwich. That way, when Rogers comes out of surgery, you’ll be ready to see him.”

Peggy wiped at her eyes. “You’re right,” she said. “I think I will.”


	10. In Which Even Hydra Can't Wreck All Steve's Plans

For a Russian assassin, Natasha made a pretty good mother hen. She took Peggy back to her room, found her a towel and a comfortable outfit, and went to make her a sandwich for after her shower. 

In not too long Peggy was freshly showered and wearing a strange baggy outfit Natasha had picked out for her. Peggy had been dubious about it; Natasha had told her it was called a sweatsuit and that Steve, of all people, wore sweatsuits frequently for working out and relaxing.

“I feel like I’m wearing pajamas,” Peggy said, surveying her silhouette in the mirror. “Oh well.” In the mirror, her reflection looked back at her with suspiciously red eyes. She hadn’t been able to help crying in the shower as she washed Steve’s blood off her arm and hand.

Peggy gave herself a shake. Steve wasn’t dead, and the regenerative healing powers of the serum would help him to heal. “Do you think he’s out of surgery yet?” she asked Natasha, who was hovering in the doorway.

“Clint says he’ll text me the minute Steve’s out of surgery and settled in his room,” Natasha said. “Now you’re gonna come with me and eat something. I can’t imagine what Rogers would say if he learned we weren’t feeding you properly.” 

Peggy let herself be ushered into the common living area, where she slowly made her way through a large ham sandwich and waited for Natasha’s phone to ding.

Finally Natasha got a text from Clint, and Peggy practically flew to the medical floor of the tower. Bruce was in the large reception area, talking earnestly to one of the medical personnel. Clint was sitting on the floor in the nearest hallway and typing something else into his phone. 

“Is he all right?” Peggy asked Clint.

“The surgery went fine,” Clint assured her. “They got the bullets out and stitched him up. He just has to rest and heal.”

That sounded encouraging to Peggy. Having been shot before, and having helped patch up injured Howling Commandos more than a few times, she was familiar with the process of recovery from bullet wounds. “Where is he?” she asked.

Clint nodded towards the door opposite him. “He’s in there. He’s pretty groggy and sleepy, though—they had to put him on a lot of pain meds.”

Peggy didn’t wait to hear more. She gently pushed open the door and went in. Her heart twisted at the sight of Steve.

He was lying on a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown and hooked up with wires to several machines Peggy didn’t recognize. His eyes were closed, and the pallor of his face was alarming, but his breathing seemed to be all right.

Peggy sank into the chair beside the bed. “Steve,” she said softly.

Steve’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked down at the hospital gown, then over at Peggy. He swallowed. “Peggy.” 

He looked completely worn out. Peggy wondered how much blood he had lost after she had tried to stanch the bleeding with her handkerchief. At least the serum would help replenish his blood supply quickly.

“Peggy,” Steve said again, with more urgency this time. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but his face had taken on a determined expression. “Are you all right?”

Peggy gave a half-laugh that turned into a sob. It was just like Steve to worry about her when he was the one who was injured. “Yes, yes, I’m all right,” she said. “Not a scratch.”

“Good.” Steve’s eyes fell shut again.

His right hand lay on top of the blanket, close to Peggy. Gently, Peggy took his hand in both of hers. “Get some rest, my darling,” she said in a whisper. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He slept, breathing deeply, safe in the care of the best spy in the SSR.

After a while Natasha popped her head in the door. “Peggy?” she whispered.

Peggy turned toward the voice. “What is it?” she whispered back.

“It’s midnight! Don’t you think you’d better get some rest?” Natasha asked.

Midnight already? It felt like just a few minutes ago that Steve had been shot. “I’m not tired,” Peggy whispered. “And I told Steve I’ll be here when he wakes up.” 

Natasha shook her head, but she couldn’t hide the smile that crossed her face. “At least let me get you a better chair. You aren’t going to sit here all night on that hard folding chair.”

Natasha was quick at getting things done. Less than five minutes later, the door opened again to reveal Clint and Bruce trying to fit a large easy chair in the door. Natasha followed behind them with a pillow and a fuzzy couch throw.

“Ssh!” Peggy put her finger to her lips, but she couldn’t help smiling. Steve’s friends were some of the warmest friends she’d ever met.

* * * * *

That easy chair was comfortable. Peggy blinked awake and realized she had been asleep for who knows how long, slumped half sideways in the chair.

She looked over and met steady blue eyes watching her. Steve was awake.

“Steve!” Peggy sat upright, knocking the fuzzy couch throw to the floor, and tried to straighten her tumbled hair. It was morning. Light streamed in through the chinks of the blinds that had been closed to help Steve rest.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Steve said softly, a smile curving the corners of his mouth. “You looked tired, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

The adoring look in Steve’s eyes made something flutter in Peggy’s chest. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better.” Steve started to sit up. 

“No, you don’t,” Peggy said in her firmest voice. “Captain Rogers, you lie back down this instant. You are not sitting up until the doctor clears you to do so.” 

“Yes, Agent Carter, ma’am!” Steve raised his hand in a mischievous salute, but he sank back against the pillows. “All right, fine. Where is that doctor? And who was that guy who shot me?”

Judging that Steve was alert enough for regular conversation, Peggy carefully filled him in on the Hydra operative who had shot him. Steve didn’t seem surprised.

“I thought at first that Hydra had gone down with those helicarriers,” he said. “I was furious that they’d survived all that time, and I thought I was wiping them out once and for all. But they weren’t kidding about that cut off one head, two will grow thing. They’re still around, in hiding, waiting for a chance to strike.”

“It’s hard to believe that seventy years later, the same man is still Hydra’s biggest threat,” Peggy said. 

Steve smiled. “I don’t know about that. It wasn’t a man who shot that Hydra operative yesterday in Columbus Circle.”

Just then there was a tap at the door, and Tony popped in, laden with a large breakfast tray. “I’m not interrupting any sensitive private conversations, am I?” he said, grinning. 

“Hi, Tony,” Steve said, starting to rise to an upright position again and then flopping back when Peggy glared at him. “What’s that? Breakfast?”

“Only the best breakfast this side of the Rockies,” Tony said, putting the tray down on a side table with a flourish. “And information. We investigated the movements of that Hydra agent from yesterday, and it’s a good thing I put up those security cameras outside the Tower. Looks like he saw the two of you leave the Tower and hurried to get ahead of you. Doesn’t do much good to go places incognito if people watch you leave the building.”

“Hmm.” Steve’s brow furrowed. “That seems like a problem for all the Avengers.”

Tony nodded. “That’s right! Probably better not to have Hydra agents sitting right outside your own front door.” He poured syrup over an enormous stack of pancakes on one of the plates on the breakfast tray. “I’ve been working on a couple ideas. One is to dig a tunnel underneath the Tower and have it come up somewhere close by. The other is to wear disguises when we leave so everyone thinks we’re janitors. Naturally, I’d rather take the tunnel.”

“It might be hard to disguise a tunnel entrance in the middle of New York,” Peggy said, propping her chin in her hands. “Besides, people could get in the other end of the tunnel and get into the Tower, the same way someone got in and stole all Howard’s most dangerous inventions from the tunnel under his house.”

Tony frowned at the mention of his father. “I’ve heard the story. Nobody is going to get into any tunnel of _mine_ by way of the sewer grates. I think we should—”

Tony was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, a large, cheery man with dark hair and a mustache, who bustled into the room with a clipboard. “Captain Rogers!” he said. “You’re looking much improved.”

“Thanks to you and Dr. Erskine,” Steve said with a grin. “My head’s not so fuzzy this morning.”

“That’s because I’ve been weaning you off some of those meds since last night,” the doctor said, jotting something down on his clipboard. “Let’s take a look and change those bandages for you.”

Stripping Steve’s hospital gown down to his waist, the doctor carefully removed the old wound dressing and looked underneath. “Looks good!” he said. “I only wish my regular patients healed so quickly.”

Steve was craning his neck trying to see the injury. “Does that mean I can get up?” he asked.

“Absolutely not,” the doctor said. “Super soldier serum or not, you’re going to stay right here under observation for at least the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want you running around, popping your stitches and reinjuring yourself.”

Steve sighed. “During the war, I’d be back in the field already,” he said.

“This is not the war, and I wasn’t your doctor then,” the doctor said. He turned to Peggy and Tony. “I’m leaving you two, and the rest of the Avengers, to make sure he stays in this bed.”

“Yes, doctor,” Peggy and Tony said together.

“Very good. Let me change this bandage and get you unhooked from the rest of these wires. Then I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

“Not like anybody’s going to want breakfast after seeing Cap’s stomach all stitched up,” Tony said under his breath.

“I heard that, Tony,” Steve said, but the face he made in Tony’s direction was more friendly than not. “By the way, thanks for showing up yesterday.”

“You owe me one now, Cap,” Tony said. “The next time we have a party, I fully expect you to sing the Star-Spangled Banner while wearing your Captain America suit.”

Steve groaned. “I might have known there’d be a catch.”

* * * * * 

The breakfast in bed that Tony had prepared was a big success. When the doctor had gone, Steve, Peggy, and Tony sat around and ate pancakes and eggs and orange slices to their hearts’ content. It turned out that even the huge stack of pancakes Tony had brought wasn’t enough for Steve’s super-soldier appetite, so Tony called down to the kitchen for another huge stack of pancakes.

The kitchen order attracted attention. When Natasha showed up a few minutes later, pushing a heavily-laden breakfast cart, she brought Bruce, Clint, and Pepper with her. Pepper was carrying a vase of flowers.

“You can’t all fit in here!” Tony protested when they all showed up in the doorway of Steve’s room.

“Sure they can,” Steve said. “Come on in, everybody! The more the merrier!”

So they all crowded around Steve’s bed in the small room. Natasha and Peggy shared the easy chair, Pepper sat demurely on the folding chair Tony had relinquished at her arrival, Bruce sat cross-legged on the floor, and Clint perched on the foot of the bed. 

Everyone talked at once. They all wanted to hear the full story of yesterday’s events from Peggy and Steve and Tony, and they all had theories about the best way to deal with Hydra. Finally a phone call came from Nick Fury, saying they were all late to a meeting, and the group broke up with much grumbling.

Peggy was left with Steve, since Fury still didn’t know about her. She closed the door after the other Avengers and returned to Steve’s side to find him with a concerned face.

“Peggy,” Steve said, “do you know what happened to the suit jacket I was wearing yesterday?”

Peggy remembered him going into the ambulance, still wearing the jacket. “No, I don’t! It’s probably ruined, though. You were bleeding quite a lot.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m not worried about that. But I do need to know where it is.” 

“I’ll ask at the nurses’ station,” Peggy said, heading for the door. “They’ll know if anybody does.”

“No, no, that’s all right, I can send somebody to look for it later,” Steve said.

“Nonsense.” Peggy smiled at him. “I’ve been on countless missions to find needles in haystacks. It should be no problem to locate a missing jacket.” She swept out the door before Steve could object any more.

It turned out that the missing jacket was in a bin in the nurses’ station, along with all of Steve’s other clothes from the night before. Most of them—especially the shirt—were stained beyond hope of repair. Peggy took the whole bin back to Steve’s room.

“Here you are, Captain,” she said. “Although I’m afraid you won’t be able to do much with them. I know you’re thrifty, but really, you won’t be able to wash all the blood out now that it’s dried.”

“It’s all right,” Steve said. “I’m not worried about the clothes.” He pulled the jacket from the bin and put the bin down on a side table. “Peggy, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Something in his tone made Peggy catch her breath. “What is it?” she asked, sitting down on the easy chair beside his bed. 

Steve’s face looked sheepish but determined. “I wasn’t going to ask you like this,” he said, “and I probably still don’t know a thing about women, but I’m not going to let Hydra shoot me again before I ask you. Peggy, will you marry me?”

The world stood still in Steve’s blue eyes, honest and shy and tender, and for nearly the first time in her life Peggy found herself completely without words. So she leaned down, mindful of his injury, and kissed him. Steve’s arms slid around her as he kissed her back, gently and ardently.

Breathless, Peggy pulled away, and the awed look on Steve’s face was the same one she’d seen when she kissed him for the first time. “Is that a yes?” Steve breathed.

“Yes,” Peggy said, and kissed him again.

A minute or two later, as she rested in Steve’s arms, Peggy remembered something. “Steve, what did you want that jacket for?”

“Oh!” Steve gave a sheepish chuckle. “Let me show you.” 

Peggy sat up, and Steve fumbled in an inside pocket of the jacket and came up with a small box. “This is for you.”

Peggy caught her breath again. Inside the box sat a golden ring with a red stone. 

“It’s a ruby,” Steve said. “The man at the jeweler’s said people usually get diamonds for engagement rings, but that must have started after the 1940s, and the color red always reminded me of you. If you’d rather have a diamond, we could get a diamond instead.”

Peggy shook her head. “I love it,” she said. “Steve, it’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Steve said, and Peggy’s mind was thrown back to the first real conversation he’d ever had with her—in a car on the way to Erskine’s experiment—when he’d called her beautiful three separate times in the same sentence. 

“Do you know something, Steve?” Peggy asked, not sure whether she was about to laugh or sob. “I believe you’ve finally learned something about women!”


	11. In Which Everything Gets A Little More Complicated

Tony Stark nearly dropped a tray of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches all over the floor when he opened Steve’s hospital room door and looked in.

Steve was sitting propped up by pillows in his hospital bed, the way Tony had left him. But instead of Peggy sitting in her chair at Steve’s bedside, she was sitting on the bed, cuddled against Steve’s chest with his arms around her. Steve’s chin was resting on Peggy’s head.

Tony stood and gaped at them.

Steve blushed all the way down to his neck. “Hi, Tony,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. Peggy looked sternly at Tony, but was that a twinkle in her eye?

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times. “What on earth is going on in here?” he finally spluttered. “America’s Golden Boy from 1945, behaving in a completely inappropriate manner with a young lady who was stranded here at Avengers Tower through no fault of her own.” He felt himself starting to grin. “It’s a scandal. You’d better be prepared to marry her, buddy.”

Peggy smiled. “Fortunately, Captain Rogers has already considered that eventuality,” she said, holding up a hand with something red and sparkling on it.

Tony hurriedly set down the tray of soup and sandwiches before he spilled it all over the floor. “Is that what I think it is?” 

Steve nodded, wrapping Peggy more firmly in his arms. 

“Really? Already? When?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Have you been hiding this from me, Rogers? _Don’t_ tell me you got shot on purpose just so you could propose while lying in bed wearing a hospital gown.”

Steve burst out laughing, and Tony looked at him in surprise. Before Peggy’s arrival, the captain hadn’t laughed or even smiled much. 

“Good heavens, man,” Peggy said to Tony, “do you really think Steve would go to all the trouble of recruiting a Hydra agent to shoot him? He could have gotten into the hospital much more easily in less painful ways.” She twisted round to look at Steve. “And I greatly prefer you _out_ of the hospital, darling, so don’t get any ideas.”

Steve smiled at her. “I think I prefer myself out of the hospital too,” he said. “But I won’t say being here hasn’t had its benefits.” 

Tony cleared his throat, and Steve and Peggy both swiveled to look at him. “When you’re done making eyes at each other, I thought you might like some lunch.”

Steve started turning red again, but Peggy only raised one eyebrow and hopped down from the bed to get the lunch tray. “Thanks, Tony,” she said.

“Congratulations, kids,” Tony said, coming forward to shake hands with both of them. “I’ve gotta say, from all the stories I heard growing up, and from everything I’ve seen since I met you, you deserve each other.”

Tony wasn’t one for praise or seriousness, so Steve and Peggy were both touched. “Thanks, Tony,” Steve said. “We really appreciate all your help, especially since Peggy got here.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony said, shifting his weight, “It’s not very often you get an American hero from the 40s showing up these days. That reminds me, Steve, you’re gonna have to deal with Fury when you get out of that bed. We had to explain about you getting shot without bringing Peggy into it, and believe me, Fury’s suspicious about who took down the Hydra agent.”

As Steve and Peggy both groaned, Tony headed for the doorway. “See you later, lovebirds,” he said. “Hey, what color do you want the signs announcing your engagement?”

“ _Signs?_ Tony, no,” Steve called after him, but the door had already shut.

“Well,” Peggy said, turning to face Steve with a mischievous expression, “I suppose that saves us the trouble of telling everyone else.”

Steve covered his face. “I hate to think what Tony’s gonna write on those signs.”

Peggy chuckled. “It can’t be worse than the Howling Commandos.”

Steve let his hands drop with a sigh. “I suppose you’re right.” 

“They were all a bunch of hopeless romantics. Remember that time on Valentine’s Day when they were all racing around trying to leave us alone together?” Peggy smiled. 

Steve nodded, but didn’t reply, his eyes gently fixed on Peggy’s face.

“What is it?” Peggy asked.

“I just remembered there’s something I still haven’t told you,” Steve said. “Peggy, I love you.”

His words burned with devotion, with longing, and with the quiet faith that had sustained him through the war as he waited for her. Since the incident with the compass caught on film, Peggy had never doubted Steve’s feelings. But although he had shown his love with every look and action, he had never said it in so many words. The time hadn’t been right. 

“I love you, my darling,” Peggy said nearly in a whisper, tipping her face up to his. 

Steve leaned down to kiss her gently—once, twice, three times—and when he pulled away, the smile on his face could have outshone the sun.

“I love you,” he said again.

* * * * *

Late in the afternoon, Thor arrived back at the Tower, bringing with him a stern dark-haired woman wearing medieval armor. Steve and Peggy heard about it first from Natasha, who had come to congratulate them on their engagement and to tell them that she and Pepper had pulled down all Tony’s embarrassing congratulatory signs. Natasha sat calmly in the easy chair by Steve’s bed and ate most of a sleeve of Oreos while telling about Thor and his medieval friend.

Steve and Peggy had barely grasped the idea that Thor’s friend, Lady Sif, was also an Asgardian and a warrior, when a loud knock came at the door of Steve’s hospital room and Thor’s blond head peered around the door.

“Ah, there you are!” Thor strode into the room. “Captain Rogers, Lady Peggy, I am delighted to hear of your betrothal. I am also sorry I was not here to help against the Hydra assassin that shot you, Captain.”

“Thanks, Thor,” Steve said. “Nat was just telling us about the woman who came back with you—Lady Sif, I think she said?”

“Ah yes, Lady Sif,” Thor said, sitting down on a folding chair much too small for him. The chair creaked ominously, but it didn’t break. “She traveled to this realm on the same day that Lady Peggy arrived. She was sent by my father, Odin, to investigate some strange phenomena happening here on Earth that day. My father believed that whatever was happening could be important enough to affect the Nine Realms, not just Earth.”

“What kind of phenomena?” Peggy asked, leaning forward.

“Heimdall, the watchman of Asgard, saw it. There was a brief crack in the space-time grid, and something came through.”

“The space-time grid?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Wait a minute, if that was the day Peggy time traveled here, isn’t it likely that the time travel machine caused the crack in the grid?”

“I suppose since I ended up in a different time and a different place, that would disrupt both time and space,” Peggy said. 

“That is likely,” Thor said. “But it is possible that something else was going on on the same day. Lady Sif has traveled far with me, looking for clues, and has found nothing.”

“What happened to the S.H.I.E.L.D. team Fury sent out?” Natasha asked.

Thor shrugged broad shoulders. “They were all investigating the seal of the Bifrost when I caught up with them. I left them behind and found Lady Sif myself. By the way, Phil son of Coul is alive.”

Steve and Natasha both stared at him. “Phil Coulson?” Steve asked. “He’s alive? Fury said he was dead!”

“He was alive when I caught up with his team in New Mexico,” Thor said. “Perhaps Fury faked his death, as he faked his own. My brother Loki also faked his death before. It can be a useful tactic.”

Steve shook his head. “Unbelievable.” 

Thor didn’t have much more information about the space-time grid situation. Tony was using J.A.R.V.I.S. to look for more information from weather satellite data, and Thor would report to Nick Fury in the morning. Lady Sif had been given a suite in the Tower for the duration of her stay.

Peggy was beginning to yawn, and Steve insisted that she go back to her own suite and get proper rest. “I’ll see you in the morning when the doctor lets me out of this bed,” he said.

“You’d better not try to get up before then,” Peggy warned him. “Natasha, Thor, would you keep an eye on him for me?”

“I could place Mjölnir on his chest,” Thor offered with a twinkle in his eye. “It will not hurt him, but he will be unable to get up.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve said. “How do you know I’m not worthy to lift it?”

Thor laughed. “You are welcome to try,” he said.

“I hear there was a time when you couldn’t lift it either,” Natasha said, one eyebrow raised in Thor’s direction.

“I see you’ve been talking to Barton,” Thor said. “That was—a regrettable family dispute.” 

“Thank you, Thor, but I think merely keeping an eye on the Captain will be sufficient,” Peggy said. “Goodnight, Thor, Natasha. Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve followed her with his eyes as she left the room, and it cost Natasha a heroic effort not to tease him about the look on his face.

* * * * *

In the morning, the doctor pronounced Steve well enough to get up. He shook his head in disbelief over how much Steve had healed during the last day. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. “Well, since the last time you got shot, anyway.”

Steve laughed and shook his hand. “Thanks, doctor,” he said. “I’ll try not getting shot for a while.”

To Steve’s surprise, although it was 8 AM, Peggy still hadn’t appeared. Steve supposed she was still tired from all the missed sleep the night before. It was just as well; Steve hadn’t shaved or showered in two days, and he wanted to make himself presentable before seeing his girl again. He got one of the medical assistants to bring him a bathrobe and made his way up to his own suite.

Freshly showered, Steve made his way down to the common living area for breakfast. To his surprise, no one was there, although dirty dishes in the kitchen and a mostly-finished danish showed that a number of people had already eaten that morning. Maybe there was a meeting with Fury that no one had told him about. Steve grabbed a bagel and went back to the elevator. He didn’t want to miss yet another Avengers meeting and have Fury ask even more questions. If Fury was going to find out about Peggy being there, Steve thought Peggy would prefer to tell him herself.

The elevator door opened, and Peggy stepped out, her face lighting up as she saw Steve. “Steve!” she said. “I was just about to see if you were awake.”

Peggy looked more like herself than she had the day before—she had curled her hair, and she was wearing a skirt and blouse instead of a sweatsuit. On her left hand, the ring Steve had given her gleamed in the light. Warmth spread through Steve’s chest as he looked at her. 

“You’re late,” he told her, enjoying how her face dimpled as she heard their old catchphrase. “So am I. I think the other Avengers are meeting with Fury.”

Steve’s phone dinged loudly, and Peggy jumped. “Sorry!” Steve said, reaching for his pocket. “I’ll turn that off.”

The first few words of a text message from Clint stared him in the face: “Come down to front lobby ASAP.”

“What is it?” Peggy asked.

“A situation downstairs,” Steve said. “You oughtta go eat your breakfast. I’ll get my shield and check it out.”

“Nonsense,” Peggy said. “I’m coming with you.” 

Down in the reception area of the Tower, an unusual sight met their eyes. A brown-haired man was lounging in an easy chair, totally relaxed except for the handcuffs on his hands. Around him, Tony, Natasha, Bruce, Clint, and Thor were all watching him suspiciously.

At Steve and Peggy’s entrance, the man looked up. His jaw dropped. 

“Steve Rogers? Now I know this has gotta be a dream.”

Peggy gasped. Steve gaped.

“ _Howard?_ ”


	12. In Which Howard and Tony are Both Surprised

Out of everyone assembled in the Avengers Tower lobby, the two most surprised people by far were Howard and Tony. 

Tony’s jaw dropped when he heard Howard’s name. He pulled Steve aside so quickly that Steve nearly stumbled into a potted plant. “Do you mean to say this is really my father? From the past?”

“Well, it _looks_ like him,” Steve said. “He knew who I was. And after Peggy showing up, I’m not too surprised Howard showed up too.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but nothing came out. 

“You oughtta talk to him,” Steve said.

“He won’t even know who I am!” Tony said. “I wasn’t born yet in the 40s! What am I supposed to do, go up to him and say, ‘Hi, I’m the son you’ll have in twenty years, and also, you’re going to be a terrible parent’?”

Steve grimaced. “I wouldn’t start with that.”

“I never got along with him,” Tony said. “It’s no secret. Sure, I know he cared about me, but he didn’t show it. What am I supposed to say to him?”

“How about the truth?” Steve said. “You don’t have to give him a hug or anything. But he ought to know who you are. I knew Howard. He’s got a big ego, but deep down somewhere he really does care about people.”

Tony sighed. “Why don’t you talk to him then? The guy idolized you. He talked non-stop about you when I was growing up. Clearly he wished he had a different kind of son.”

“He should have expected his son would be a lot like him,” Steve said. He put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He went through a lot of tough things in his life. Give him a chance.”

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Peggy had taken off Howard’s handcuffs—she had assured Thor, who was hovering like a large guard dog, that she knew Howard and he wasn’t a threat—and was cross-examining him. “Howard, how on earth did you get here?”

“If this is a dream, I hope I got here after a killer evening with a tall blonde,” Howard said without missing a beat. 

Peggy smacked him. “Feel that? It’s not a dream. Besides, you always deserve to get smacked. How did you get here?”

“There was something wrong with the time machine,” Howard said. 

“I could have told you that four days ago,” Peggy said. “You sent me here to 2014, and I’ve been stuck here without any way to get back. And I would be furious with you, except that this ridiculous new world I got sent into also happens to have Steve Rogers in it.” 

Howard shook his head. “You and I both know Steve went down in the Valkyrie three years ago. Peggy, if this isn’t a dream, it’s some kind of alternate reality.”

“No, it isn’t. Steve didn’t die when his plane crashed. The serum protected him. It’s a long story. You’d better ask him about it, because I’m still not straight on all the details.”

At this Howard bounced out of his chair, interrupting Steve and Tony’s conversation by whacking Steve hard on the back. “Well, you’re solid anyway.”

“Howard,” Steve said, turning to him with a sigh. “You haven’t changed.”

“Well, I like that!” Howard said. “Do you know how much time I spent looking for you, out there in the middle of nowhere, freezing my ears off?”

Steve’s face softened. “Peggy told me about that,” he said, holding out his hand. “Thank you, Howard.”

Howard shook Steve’s hand vigorously. “That’s more like it. Wait a minute.” He looked from Steve to Peggy, then at Steve again, then at Peggy. A broad grin spread across his face. “Are you two—” 

“We’re engaged,” Steve said, nodding proudly at Peggy, who smiled back at him and held her ring up in Howard’s direction. 

Howard beamed. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I couldn’t bring you back to Peg, but I brought her here to you. Peg, where’s my thank you for being a genius?”

“Thank you, Howard, for being such an absolute bumbling idiot that you just _happened_ to send me randomly to the same time period as the love of my life,” Peggy said promptly.

Howard sighed. “Always unappreciated.” He looked around the room at the other Avengers, who were watching with interest. “Peg, Steve, are you gonna introduce me to your guard dogs here? Glad I found you—I asked where the richest guy in New York lived, and I ended up here. This building has a lousy security system.”

“I upgraded this security system from one that my father invented!” Tony protested, then stopped suddenly, stepping back.

“Howard, I’ve got an important introduction for you,” Steve said, pushing a scowling Tony forward. “You might not believe this, but this is Tony Stark—your son.”

Howard stared, mouth agape. “I don’t have a son.”

“You will in 1970,” Peggy said. “Believe it or not.”

Howard shook his head. “He’s older than me.”

“Yeah, that kind of thing happens when you invent a time machine,” Tony said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You put in some parts backwards, by the way.”

“I know I did, and it took me a week to put the thing back together the right way because I didn’t have my equations,” Howard said impatiently. “Wait a minute. How did you get my equations? And how did you know how the time machine worked?”

“As Steve said, he’s your son,” Peggy said. “And I gave him the equations. They ended up with me in the middle of a field in New Jersey.”

Howard looked at Tony with a strange expression on his face. “You’re a mathematician?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” Tony said promptly.

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, Howard?” Peggy said. Howard ignored her, his eyes fixed on Tony.

“You own this place?” Howard motioned to the glass walls and high ceiling of the reception area. 

“Yep. It’s got its own self-sustaining clean energy source, too. An arc reactor.”

“Arc reactor?” Howard said, his voice incredulous. “I was working on inventing—” He turned to Peggy. “Peggy, you’ve gotta swear you’re telling the truth. Is this really my son?”

“He’s really your son.” Peggy nodded firmly.

“Wow.” Howard stared at Tony. “Time travel is a bigger surprise than I thought. Hello…son.”

“I’m not gonna call you dad when you’re younger than me,” Tony said.

“I’d feel even stranger if you did, pal,” Howard said. “You wanna show me what happened to those equations?”

Tony blew out his breath. “Sure, why not.” He turned to leave, and Howard began to follow him.

“Wait!” Thor said. “What happened to the time machine you used to get here?”

Howard turned. “Oh, that,” he said. “That’s back in my lab in 1948. I made a slight miscalculation. When I figured out that Peggy and everything outside the cylinder had gotten sent through time instead of me, I knew I’d gotten some parts in backwards. So I put ‘em in the other way round. I figured that should send the cylinder and its contents through time. But the cylinder didn’t travel through time. Only the contents—me.”

Peggy groaned. “Howard, I distinctly remember asking you if you were sure that thing was safe before you tried it.”

“Well, I _was_ sure!” Howard said. “Neither of us got hurt using it, right? Perfectly safe.”

Tony and Howard went off, leaving the other Avengers shaking their heads.

“You know,” Clint said, “in case they start trying to invent things, it might be good to send somebody up to keep an eye on them.”

“You’re right,” Steve said. “Bruce, you have seven Ph.Ds—can you make sure they don’t invent anything too dangerous?”

Bruce groaned, running his hand through his hair. “Why me?” 

“Because they could invent the world’s most dangerous invention and all Rogers would say is that it runs on some kind of electricity,” Natasha said, aiming a smirk in Steve’s direction.

“You know what, Romanoff?” Steve began, but Peggy put a hand on his arm.

“Captain, I think I remember you saying there was breakfast in the common area?”

“Oh! Right.” Steve pulled himself up, offering Peggy his arm. “Avengers, disassemble. Except Bruce. I still think you oughtta keep an eye on those two Starks.”


	13. In Which Lady Sif Explains a Thing or Two about Time Travel

While Bruce babysat the two inventors in Tony’s lab, Steve and Peggy met Lady Sif. The Asgardian warrior was in the kitchen of the common area, trying to figure out how to use the microwave. 

“Thor said this thing would heat my food,” she said. “I see no heat source.”

Peggy didn’t know how to use it either, so Steve showed them.

“I wish Tony was down here to see this,” he said. “He’d never believe I was teaching someone else to use electronic equipment.”

“He really is like Howard,” Peggy said. “Howard always acts as though his ridiculous inventions are the simplest thing in the world to understand—even the ones that don’t work.”

“Who is this Howard?” Sif asked, keeping a cautious eye on the microwave as it cooked her food.

Peggy explained about Howard and the time travel. Sif frowned.

“If he used the time machine to get here, he must have made another crack in the space-time grid,” she said. “Such things are dangerous. In the wrong hands, a time machine could be deadly. The All-Father sent me here to guard against such an event.”

Steve frowned, leaning back against the kitchen counter with his arms folded across his chest. “I see what you mean,” he said. “We wouldn’t want Hydra getting their hands on a time machine.”

Peggy’s eyes grew wide. “Howard said he left the time machine in 1948 when he traveled here, didn’t he? It wouldn’t have anyone to guard it after Howard was gone!”

“That means anybody in 1948 could be getting ready to use it right now,” Steve said. “Unless time travel doesn’t work that way. That’s more Tony and Bruce’s thing.”

Sif turned towards the door, her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I must speak to this Howard,” she said. “I doubt he understands the seriousness of this situation.” She strode away, and Steve and Peggy were left staring after her.

“You know, she’s right,” Peggy said. “Howard seems to think this is all fun and games.”

“We’d better get up there.”

Leaving Sif’s microwaved breakfast burrito to its fate, Steve and Peggy dashed upstairs to Tony’s lab. Sif was already there, staring down Howard, who looked impressed. Tony had his face buried in a notebook covered in equations.

“Tony, Howard,” Steve said in his most authoritative Captain America voice, “I’m calling an Avengers meeting, right now. We’ve got a possible crisis on our hands.”

Tony tore himself away from the notebook. “What kind of crisis?”

“A time travel one. Everybody come down to the common area. I’m texting the others.” 

In less than five minutes, all the Avengers plus Sif and Howard were in the common area. Pepper hurried in, having cut a meeting short when Tony sent her an emergency alert.

“What’s the emergency?” Clint asked, yawning. He had been napping.

“Lady Sif, would you please explain?” Steve asked.

Sif stood and faced the assembled Avengers, her face grave. In her armor, with her sword at her side, she was an imposing sight. “Humankind is in grave danger,” she said. In a few short sentences, she described the problem: Howard’s time machine could be used by any number of enemies to lay waste to the modern world. The Avengers had fought plenty of villains in the past that they wouldn’t like to see again. The time machine could bring any and all of those villains back to the present day.

Howard looked skeptical. “How do you think any of those goons are going to get my time machine? It’s in the SSR lab, and you can’t even get in there unless you’re authorized!” He stretched back in his chair.

“If you haven’t forgotten, Howard, it was less than two years ago that Dr. Fennhoff took a number of your most dangerous inventions from that lab, and was going to destroy all of New York,” Peggy shot back.

“Two years ago—you mean in 1946?” Tony asked. 

“Yes,” Peggy said. 

“Fennhoff’s locked up,” Howard said. “Besides, you haven’t invited any Russian assassins to the SSR lately, have you?”

“Hydra was still alive and well in 1948,” Steve said, leaning forward on the couch to look at Howard. “I don’t suppose anyone’s filled you in on what happened between then and now. We’re _still_ fighting Hydra.”

Howard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You can’t be! We got rid of the last of Hydra back in 1945! Peggy and the Howling Commandos took out their last base!”

Steve shook his head. “There’s that slogan of theirs,” he said. “Cut off one head, two more will take its place.”

“Besides, there are other people besides Hydra who would love to get their hands on a time machine,” Peggy said.

“Is that really how time travel works?” Clint asked. “What’s happened in the past has already happened, right? Why do we need to send somebody back to guard Howard’s time machine?”

“Somebody can still come from the past and affect the present day,” Bruce said, wiping his glasses with the hem of his T-shirt. “Peggy and Howard both did.”

Thor twirled his hammer around and nearly hit Clint upside the head. “What can we do about it?”

“Can you send Howard back to the 1940s to destroy the time machine?” Nat asked.

“We don’t know how to send him back,” Tony said, resting his chin on his hands. “We need some kind of space-time GPS.”

“Hey, hey!” Howard said. “Nobody’s sending me anywhere without asking me.”

“You sent _me_ somewhere without asking me,” Peggy said.

“Yeah, and you’re happy about it, aren’t you?” Howard winked in her and Steve’s direction. 

Peggy ignored him, turning towards his son instead. “Tony, Bruce—and Howard, I suppose—do you think you can figure out how to get _someone_ back to 1948 to destroy Howard’s time machine?” 

“I still don’t think it has to be destroyed,” Howard said. “If anybody’s going back there to mess around with it, I’m going with them. Think of all the things we can do with a time machine! We can change the course of the future!”

“We’re trying to make sure nobody _destroys_ the future, Howard,” Steve said. “Tony? Bruce?”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t studied much about time travel theories,” he said. “So far, Tony and I haven’t come up with anything that works.”

“You didn’t have me with you then,” Howard said. “I know I can fix it. I just have to figure out what went wrong.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Out of the twenty-five major things that were wrong with it?” he asked. “If you think your equations were—"

“Tony,” Pepper began to interject.

“Do you mortals always argue so much?” Sif cut in. “The entire universe is at risk, not just your little civilization here on Midgard. I have been sent by the All-Father to ensure that this danger is averted. Will you work to avert it?”

Everyone looked at Tony, Bruce, and Howard.

Howard was the first to speak. “Sure thing, sugar,” he said, grinning at Sif. “I’ve got it under control. After that, you wanna go down to the club for a drink?”

Sif looked at him blankly, and Clint burst out laughing, then tried vainly to cover it up.

“I’ll do it,” Tony said, rising to his feet. “Bruce, you in?”

“All right.” Bruce still looked dubious, but he got up.

“In the meantime, shouldn’t we have Avengers on guard in case anyone dangerous shows up from the past?” Thor asked.

“And what about Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Natasha asked. “Should we tell anyone there’s a possible threat?”

Steve frowned. “That’s a tough call,” he said. “I don’t know what the chances are of someone from the past happening to find out about Howard’s time machine. I’d rather not cause trouble with Fury unless we have to.”

“He still doesn’t know I’m here,” Peggy reminded Steve, her hand on his arm. “If we decide to tell him about this whole thing, I want to be there when he learns.”

Steve took her hand in his. “Right,” he said. “You’ll be there. I’m not so sure about Howard.”

“Hey, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but I think I’m being excluded from something,” Howard complained. “When I save the world for you, I hope you’re grateful.”

Peggy groaned and sank backwards into the couch. “Howard, you are impossible.”

“Well, do we have a plan?” Steve asked. “Tony, Bruce, and Howard on the time machine. Everyone else on lookout. We reconvene tomorrow to assess the situation. Everybody agree?”

They all agreed. The inventors went back up to the lab, Pepper went back to her work, and everyone else scattered, after agreeing they would take turns watching for Hydra or any other strange people that seemed to be out of place.

* * * * *

Steve and Peggy had the first lookout shift. They decided that the best way to keep watch was to go through all the current news coming in from S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury had arranged for the Avengers to receive automatic news updates for anything that might concern them.

“Of course, he doesn’t send us everything,” Steve told Peggy, as he showed her how to access the news updates on a computer in his suite. “But since he learned about Hydra and had to go into hiding, he’s been better about sharing news.”

“Is he still in hiding?” Peggy asked. They were sitting on Steve’s couch. Steve had the laptop on his lap, and Peggy was snuggled against him.

“For the moment,” Steve said. “But nobody knows what’s going on better than he does. He was the first one to figure out he couldn’t trust the people around him in S.H.I.E.L.D. That was before any of us learned about Hydra.”

“Hmm.” Peggy frowned. “I still can’t believe Hydra survived. And everyone tells me I founded S.H.I.E.L.D. with Colonel Phillips and Howard. How did Hydra get past us? Or how will they get past us? It’s strange—everything I supposedly did after 1948 is in the past, but I haven’t done any of it yet!”

Just then there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Steve called.

Natasha sidled through, a mischievous grin on her face. “You’re not watching Hallmark movies in here, are you?”

Steve laughed. “I thought Hallmark made picture postcards,” he said. 

“You mean you’ve never seen any of the dozens of Hallmark movies we have in the DVD collection upstairs?” Natasha shook her head. “They’d be perfect for the two of you. Girl from the big city goes out to a small town, she doesn’t want to be there, girl meets guy, guy shows her she really likes the small town, they kiss, end credits.”

“They’re all like that?” Peggy asked.

“Pretty much.” Natasha grinned. “Most of them are set around Christmas. Anyway, that’s not what I came to tell you. Clint and I are taking the next shift, so in case the two of you wanted to sneak away anywhere and have that evening out that got ruined the other day…”

“Nobody would notice?” Steve said. He turned to Peggy, blue eyes serious. “I think we can avoid Hydra this time, if you want to try that restaurant over at Central Park.”

Peggy smiled. “It’s a date, Captain,” she said. “But I think we’d better not try to walk there this time. How do you feel about taxis?”

“What, you don’t want to brave my motorcycle driving?” Steve’s eyes twinkled. “All right. Taxi it is.”


	14. In Which Steve and Peggy Finally Get Their Dance

Excited as she was to go out with Steve, Peggy couldn’t help a feeling of trepidation as she got ready for their date that evening. What if Hydra showed up again? What if a time-traveling villain just happened to come to New York while they weren’t at the Tower?

“Pull yourself together, Peggy Carter,” she told her reflection sternly as she brushed her hair. “Nothing’s going to happen. You and Steve have waited long enough for your dance, and tonight you’re going to get it.”

Try as she might, Peggy hadn’t been able to get the stains of Steve’s blood out of the dress she had worn on their previous, failed date. So she was wearing a different dress, one Pepper had picked out for her—a navy dress with a circle skirt and a red belt.

A gentle knock came at her door, and when Peggy opened it, she was suddenly breathless. Steve was standing there, not in a modern suit, but in his dress uniform from the war. She’d nearly forgotten how good it looked on him. 

Steve blushed at her gaze. “I didn’t have another suit,” he explained. “You think this is too conspicuous? At least people won’t recognize it as much as they recognize the red, white, and blue suit.”

Peggy shook her head. “Steve, you look wonderful.” She reached up to brush an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder. 

He blushed still more. “And you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

Dimpling, Peggy took his arm, and they headed out to catch a taxi.

It was getting late in the evening, and the sun was setting when they arrived at the restaurant. The place had recently been rebuilt in a vintage English style, with wood ceiling beams and paneling and a cozy atmosphere. Peggy was charmed. “This is the most at home I’ve felt since I got to the future,” she said.

Steve beamed. “I thought you’d like it.”

The waitress who came to escort Peggy and Steve to their table was overcome with a fit of shyness—Peggy suspected that the girl guessed who Steve was, but that she was too polite to say anything—and nearly tripped over her own feet while showing them to their seats. 

Their table was near a window, with a beautiful view of Central Park. The view was wasted on Steve and Peggy, however. Steve had eyes for nothing but his girl, and Peggy couldn’t take her eyes off him either. 

“I used to dream about taking you someplace like this,” Steve said softly. “During the war, when we were all standing around in the mud breaking our teeth on D-rations. Or before I went to sleep at night. I was going to show you around New York, and we’d go to a nice restaurant, and maybe I’d propose to you there someday. I didn’t know if any of it would ever happen, but it was nice to dream about.”

Peggy took his hand, which was lying on the table, and twined her fingers through his. “I would dream about going out with you too,” she said. “Especially about our dance.”

Steve was playing with her engagement ring. “I’m afraid I still don’t know how to dance,” he said.

Peggy smiled. “I’m rather glad you don’t, so I can teach you.” An idea occurred to her. “Steve, you were planning to propose to me here, weren’t you?”

Steve’s grin was sheepish. “Yeah,” he said. “It was the nicest place I could think of. Are you sorry I didn’t wait?”

“No,” Peggy said, remembering the beautiful light in Steve’s eyes when he’d told her he loved her. “I wouldn’t trade that proposal for anything, my darling.”

“Not even for someplace that wasn’t a hospital room?” 

“Not even that.” 

Reassured, Steve looked radiant. If they hadn’t been in a public place, he probably would have kissed her. 

Someone loudly cleared their throat next to their table, and Steve blushed deep red as he looked up and saw the waitress had come to take their orders.

Peggy got roast chicken with peas and potatoes, and Steve got beef with mushrooms and a large bowl of soup on the side. One entrée was never enough for his super-soldier appetite. The waitress was impressed when she returned and saw that neither of the guests would need a box for leftovers; Steve had eaten all his food, and Peggy had given him some chicken and potatoes she couldn’t finish.

They went out onto the terrace behind the restaurant, where a band was playing 40s music and people were dancing. It had grown dark, but tiny lanterns overhead shed light on the dance floor.

Steve was suddenly nervous. “Is this all right?” he asked. “If it’s not what you were hoping for—”

Peggy smiled at him. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Come on, Captain. I think they’re playing our song.”

As the band played a slow jazz song, one that had been on the radio many times during the war, Peggy showed Steve how to hold her and how to step. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to follow her instructions.

Peggy laughed. “You don’t have to look at your feet, Steve,” she said. “Look at me instead.”

His trusting blue eyes, lifted to hers, took Peggy’s breath away again. How was it possible that a man so honest and loving really existed? Before meeting Steve, Peggy would never have believed it. 

“Steve,” Peggy asked, “do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this dance?”

His forehead furrowed. “Since Azzano?”

Peggy shook her head. “I told you at Azzano,” she said, “but I’ve been waiting ever since that car ride in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide. “You mean when I called you a dame and pointed out all the places I got beat up?”

Peggy laughed. “Yes. You also said you were waiting for the right partner.”

Steve’s ears were turning pink. “You mean you thought about dancing with me _then_? Before the serum?” 

Peggy nodded. “I couldn’t believe you’d never danced. You were so brave and honest and determined—I don’t know why half the girls in New York weren’t chasing after you.”

“Wow.” Steve’s face was incredulous. “ _Nobody_ was interested in me before the serum. All the girls were chasing after Bucky.”

Peggy shook her head. “Those girls didn’t know what they were missing.”

“I love you, Peggy,” Steve said softly, and immediately stepped on her foot. “Gosh, I didn’t mean to do that—I’m sorry, Peg—are you all right?”

Peggy laughed shakily. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she said. “Maybe we should try an easier step.” 

They ended up staying in one place, swaying back and forth, barely moving, held close in each other’s arms. 

“Steve,” Peggy said, her voice somewhat muffled in Steve’s uniform jacket, “I forgot to tell you—I love you too, my darling.”

Steve’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Peggy tilted her head back to look at him. “So when are we going to get married?”

The look of delight on Steve’s face told Peggy that was the right question. “Soon?” he asked. “Do you want to talk to Father Johnson with me tomorrow? He’s the priest at the church where I’ve been going since I came out of the ice.”

“Oh, yes!” Peggy beamed. “Does he know you’re Captain America?”

Steve looked sheepish. “The little old church ladies figured that out the first day I walked in there. They invited me to a potluck in the basement, fed me a dozen plates of cookies, and asked for autographs all round. Then they tried to recruit me to sing in the choir.”

Peggy laughed. “So did you join?”

“Couldn’t make choir practice on Wednesday nights.” Steve’s eyes twinkled. 

The song slowed to a stop, and they stood still in the middle of the dance floor, their faces so close their noses were nearly touching. Steve’s eyes were very blue, and Peggy felt herself drawing closer to him, as though she were magnetized.

A faster song began with a crash of cymbals, and Steve’s head jerked up. The couples around them had started to dance again.

Steve grasped Peggy’s hand. “Come with me,” he said, and led her through the dancers to the edge of the dance floor. A tall tree stood there, its trunk ringed with hanging flower baskets. 

Out of sight of the dancing couples, with Peggy clasped securely in his arms, Steve bent his head and kissed her warmly. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his mouth almost brushing hers. “Peggy—you’re the love of my life.”

A big happy tear rolled down Peggy’s face. Her heart too full for words, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him back.

* * * * *

After more dancing and a lot of whispering to each other behind the big tree, Steve and Peggy got a taxi and made their way back to Avengers Tower. 

They came into the common area, hand in hand, and found Tony and Pepper, snuggled next to each other on the couch watching a movie. Peggy couldn’t help staring. She had known Tony and Pepper were dating, but she hadn’t seen much of them acting like a couple.

Tony craned his neck to see who had come in. “Cap! Peggy! You should join us,” he said. “It’s this British movie Pepper likes called ‘Mansfield Park.’ You’d love it. One of the actresses looks so much like Peggy, I swear it’s gotta be her twin. Except her twin would be old, wouldn’t she? Unless she time-traveled too. Maybe she’s one of those people using Howard’s time travel machine—"

“ _Tony_ ,” Pepper said.

“Sorry, Pep. I’ll shut up.” Tony turned back to the movie. 

“You two are welcome to stay,” Pepper said, turning to Peggy and Steve.

Peggy looked at Steve. “I think I should turn in,” she said. “I’m getting tired.”

“All right,” Steve said, smiling down at her. “Thanks, Tony, Pepper. Maybe another time.”

* * * * *

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. After a hasty breakfast, Steve took Peggy to his church, a little place tucked into a row of tall buildings near the Chrysler Building. Steve liked it because it was like the church he remembered as a boy, with Latin prayers and chants and beautiful paintings on the walls and ceiling. Although it was in the middle of the city, it wasn’t too crowded, and Peggy could feel curious eyes on her and Steve as they made their way in to find a seat. She imagined the little old ladies would have stories to tell about Captain America and his new girl. Steve sang the bass part of all the hymns, and his strong voice made Peggy instantly understand why the ladies had wanted him in the choir.

After church was over, Steve and Peggy went to find Father Johnson and tell their story. The priest, a middle-aged, bearded man with a perpetual twinkle in his eye, was so floored he had to find a chair and sit down.

“If I didn’t know you,” he told Steve, “I’d think this whole thing was a joke.” He turned to Peggy. “You’re really from 1948?”

Peggy nodded. “It’s the truth.”

Peggy and Steve quickly learned there were a lot of hoops they would have to jump through before getting married. They would need a marriage license, and to get that they would both need identification. Since Peggy’s identification was left behind in 1948, that posed a problem. 

The church also generally required a six-month waiting period for engaged couples, during which they would attend marriage preparation classes. Both Steve and Peggy were taken aback by the long wait.

“Father, we’ve waited for each other since World War II,” Steve said. “And they didn’t have a six-month waiting period in the 40s. Is there any way we could get permission to get married earlier?”

The priest looked at them seriously. “How about this,” he said. “You meet with me later this week, and we can go through some of the marriage preparation material. I know you, Steve. You’re a good man. If the two of you are really ready to get married, I’ll see what I can do about moving the wedding sooner than six months.”

“Thank you, Father,” Peggy said, catching Steve’s hand and squeezing it.

“Thank you, Father,” Steve said.

The priest raised a finger. “Of course, you have to get paperwork for your marriage license,” he said. “That’s not going to be easy.”

“We’ll find a way,” Steve said, his voice confident. “If we have to talk to every government department in the United States, we’ll do it.”

They shook hands all around, and Steve and Peggy went out to find a taxi.

“Steve,” Peggy said, “I think I’d better meet with Nick Fury. Maybe he can help me get some identification.”

Steve scuffed a shoe along the sidewalk. “Yeah,” he said. “He probably can. There’s gonna be a lot of trouble when he finds out about Howard and the time machine, though.”

Peggy laughed. “I don’t mind,” she said. “Really, Steve.”

He smiled at her. “You’re a brave woman,” he said. “S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t gonna be happy with either of us. Or the rest of the Avengers.”

“Let them get mad,” Peggy said. “I outrank all of them. Remember, you all told me I was the first director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Steve beamed with pride as he offered her his arm and waved down an oncoming taxi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the "Mansfield Park" reference! It's one of the first movies I saw starring Hayley Atwell, and it also features James D'Arcy (Edwin Jarvis in "Agent Carter").


	15. In Which We Learn that Even Avengers Can Get Sick

On Monday morning, when the Avengers met in the common area to discuss the inventors’ progress with the time machine (not much) and the reports from everyone watching for possible time traveling villains (nothing yet), Peggy was conspicuously absent.

“Steve, what happened to your girl?” Tony asked from the depths of an armchair, where he was slumped in his pajamas. “I thought you people from the 40s always got up at the crack of dawn to feed the chickens!”

“Chickens?” Thor asked, looking up with interest from the time machine blueprints he had been studying.

“We didn’t have chickens in Brooklyn, Tony,” Steve said. “Peggy probably slept in. We were looking for news of any possible time travelers together, so our report’s going to be exactly the same anyway.”

Tony let the matter drop, and the Avengers who were present finished their meeting. 

By ten o’clock, Peggy still hadn’t emerged, and Steve was beginning to worry. He was just about to go knock on her door when the elevator door in the common area opened and Peggy stepped out.

Something was wrong. Peggy was pale, and she was wearing a dressing gown over pajamas. She had deep circles under her eyes.

“Peggy, what’s wrong?” Steve hurried to her, grasping her hands. “Are you all right?”

“I think,” Peggy began. She winced and swallowed. “I think I’m getting sick. Do you have a thermometer?”

Steve felt her forehead and was alarmed at its warmth. “You’re burning up!” he said. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” 

“Really, Steve, it’s not the end of the world,” Peggy protested. “If I have a cup of tea and sit on the sofa I should be all right.”

Steve shook his head. He’d said similar things to his ma and Bucky countless times when he was so sick he couldn’t even stand up.

“You’re going back to bed right now,” he said, grasping Peggy’s shoulders gently and turning her around. “I’m gonna get Bruce to check you over. Maybe you’ve caught some kind of bug.”

He knew it was bad when Peggy didn’t protest again, but meekly let him lead her back to the elevator. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He could feel the feverish heat of her forehead through the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t understand it,” she said. “I _never_ catch cold in the summer!”

“I used to get sick all year round,” Steve said. “One time I got pneumonia in the summer. Bucky said I attracted every germ in Brooklyn.”

Peggy laughed, which turned into a cough. “Sorry, I know that wasn’t funny,” she said. “I can just see all the germs in Brooklyn lining up in front of your front door.”

Steve laughed. “I should have put up a sign: No Germs Allowed.”

“Germs can’t read, Steve,” Peggy said, with a mischievous look springing into her tired eyes. “Besides, if you put a sign warning them to go away, they’d probably be more determined to come in.”

They had reached their floor. Steve led Peggy to her room.

“Let me come in and get you settled,” he said. 

“Oh, Steve, it’s a mess in here,” Peggy protested. 

“I don’t mind. I want to make sure you’re OK before I get Bruce. Please?”

“All right.” 

Peggy’s room wasn’t what Steve would have called a mess. The bed was unmade, and clothes were draped and piled on a chair, but other than that it was fairly tidy. Steve plumped Peggy’s pillows and got her settled back in bed—she insisted on sitting up. 

“I’m calling Bruce, and I’m gonna get you a cup of tea,” Steve said. “I’ll be right back.”

He found Bruce in the lab with Tony and Howard, bent over a diagram. “Bruce!” Steve said. “Peggy’s sick.”

Bruce straightened up. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s got a sore throat, and she’s burning up. She thinks it’s a cold, but I want to make sure it isn’t something strange she got after time traveling. Will you take a look at her?”

“Sure.” Leaving Tony and Howard to their own devices, Bruce came down with Steve, stopping off at his own suite to get his doctor’s bag.

He examined Peggy while Steve hovered nearby. Other than the fever—which his thermometer confirmed—and the sore throat, Bruce didn’t find any other alarming symptoms. “It’s probably some kind of bug,” he told Peggy. “Most likely a cold. I’ll get you some cold medicine with a fever reducer, and you should rest and stay hydrated.”

“You’re not going to tell me I have to stay in bed, are you?” Peggy crossed her arms.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt,” Bruce said. “Also, if this thing’s contagious, you should probably avoid spreading it to the rest of the Tower.”

Peggy sighed. “I was afraid of that. I hate being quarantined.” She looked around at the walls of the guest room.

It reminded Steve of one time when Peggy had been stuck in the infirmary, recovering from some sickness she’d gotten after a long cold march in the mud. She had been frustrated when the Howling Commandos all went off on a mission without her. She hated being left out.

A thought came to him.

“Bruce, I haven’t gotten sick since I got the serum,” Steve said. “When Peggy’s feeling a little better, it wouldn’t be a problem if she came over to my suite, would it? She could sit on the couch. Might be better than lying in bed.”

Peggy smiled at him gratefully. Bruce grinned.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “But don’t overdo it! No sparring matches or all-night movie marathons.” He shook a finger at Peggy, shook hands with Steve, and went off.

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Peggy said, as the door closed behind Bruce. “A cup of tea, and I’ll be right as rain.”

Steve shook his head. “You heard what Bruce said. You have to rest.”

Peggy coughed. “All right, Steve, I’m going to let you wait on me just this once. If you’ll bring me a cup of tea, I’ll stay in bed like a good girl and drink it.”

Steve saluted. “At your service, ma’am.”

“Now are you happy?” Peggy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” He grinned.

Steve got all the way back to his suite before he remembered he didn’t have any tea. He wasn’t much of a tea drinker. Maybe there was tea in the common area kitchen.

There was, in fact, tea in the kitchen, and Natasha was there to help Steve select a kind that would be soothing to Peggy’s sore throat. “If she needs cough drops or Kleenex or anything, I’ve got some,” Natasha offered. “I don’t expect Mr. I-Never-Get-Sick would keep anything like that, would he?”

Steve grinned. “Guess I graduated from being Mr. I-Always-Get-Sick,” he said. “I might knock on your door later if Peggy needs anything. Thanks, Romanoff.”

Natasha smiled. “You know, you’re a lot less grumpy with Peggy here,” she said.

“Grumpy? Me?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Want me to poll the rest of the Avengers?”

“Go right ahead,” Steve said. “Might be a better use of your time than making booby traps over the kitchen door. I saw all that stuff you were trying to hide behind your back when I walked in here.”

Natasha groaned. “Super-soldier senses strike again! It wasn’t supposed to be a booby trap for you. It’s for Clint. He hid in the ceiling vent and jumped out at me when I came into the laundry room.”

Armed with an entire teapot full of steaming chamomile tea, a flowered teacup and saucer that couldn’t possibly belong to Natasha (or could they?), a small pot of honey, some medicine Bruce brought for Peggy, and the Kleenex box out of the common area, Steve went back to Peggy’s room and knocked gently. 

“Come in,” Peggy’s voice said faintly.

Steve came in and found her flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling with bright eyes.

“Peg, you shouldn’t lie flat like that when you’re sick,” he said. “Makes you cough. I oughtta know.”

“Really?” Peggy made no effort to move.

“Here, let me help.” Steve put down the tray he was carrying on Peggy’s nightstand and helped her get settled again, sitting up, with pillows behind her back. He served her a cup of tea with a generous amount of honey.

Peggy sipped the steaming tea slowly, and Steve cleared all the clothes off the chair near her bed and pulled it up so he could sit next to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Tired.” Peggy looked it. “It’s strange. I felt perfectly fine yesterday.”

“I hope Bruce is right, and it’s just a bug,” Steve said, feeling Peggy’s warm forehead again with his hand. “What if it’s something immune systems from the 40s can’t handle?”

Peggy swatted his hand away. “Don’t be a mother hen,” she laughed, and coughed. “I’ll be perfectly fine in no time.”

Steve wasn’t reassured. He hovered over Peggy as she drank her tea and took her medicine. 

“You’d better get some rest,” he told her, when she had finished.

Peggy smiled archly, handing him her teacup. “Did your mother and Bucky act like this when you were sick?”

“Every time. I was a terrible patient. Ma and Bucky were both convinced that if it weren’t for them, I’d have kicked the bucket a dozen times. They were probably right.” 

How he wished his Ma and Bucky could be with him and Peggy now!

“I’m sorry,” Peggy said softly, and Steve realized he had been staring off into the distance. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Steve took her hand. “Peg, nobody talks to me about my ma and Bucky. You’re the only one. Ma deserves to be remembered, and Bucky deserves to be found, wherever he is. Don’t worry about making me sad.”

Peggy squeezed his hand. “You’ll find Bucky, Steve. I know you will. And when I’m better, I can help look.”

“In that case, you’d better get your rest,” Steve said, getting to his feet. “I’ll come back and check on you in a couple hours.”

“Don’t you have important Avengers work?” Peggy teased.

“You’re important too,” Steve protested. “And if there’s an emergency, somebody’ll call me.”

As he turned to go, a photo sitting on top of the dresser caught his eye. He looked closer. It was a picture of him from Fort Lehigh, before the serum. How did Peggy get that? He didn’t even remember the picture being taken.

“Peggy, where on earth did you get this?” He held it out to her.

Peggy smiled, taking the photo from him and holding it reverently by the edges. “I got it from Colonel Phillips,” she said. Her face grew thoughtful. “Not this one, but a different copy. He gave it to me after the Valkyrie went down. It was all I had of you.” Her lip trembled, and Steve could see tears forming in her eyes.

In a heartbeat he was sitting on the edge of her bed, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “I’m here, Peggy.”

Peggy took a deep breath, leaning into him. “The first few nights when I was here in 2014, I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I kept thinking I’d wake up and find it was all a dream. I ran into Natasha a few times, wandering around in the common area, and she found that picture somehow and printed it out for me.” 

She turned the picture over. On the back was written: “Steve Is Alive.”

“It sounds silly, but it really helped to wake up and see it,” Peggy said.

Steve smiled. “Nat made me a paper that said ‘Peggy Is Really Back.’ I was having a hard time sleeping too.”

“Nat’s a good friend. I want to ask her to be my maid of honor.” 

“Good choice. She’ll probably wear her tactical gear under her bridesmaid dress in case Hydra attacks during the ceremony.” Steve chuckled into Peggy’s hair. “I can’t wait. Not for Hydra, but for the wedding.”

“Mmm.” Peggy cuddled closer to him. She was looking at the photo again. “You know, Steve, the picture’s a poor substitute for the real thing.”

Steve’s arms tightened around her, and he took her left hand—the one with the ring—in his. “I won’t leave you alone again,” he said. “I promise.”

“No more planes going into the ocean?”

“Not without sending you my coordinates so somebody can dig me out of the ice.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare!” Peggy twisted to half-face him. Her voice was fierce for someone with such a sore throat.

Steve chuckled and kissed her forehead. “All right, all right. No more planes going into the ocean.”

It wasn’t until Peggy had fallen asleep against his chest that Steve remembered he had been going to go back to his own suite. Well, he wasn’t about to get up now and wake her up. Besides, sitting there with his arms around Peggy, Steve wasn’t quite sure that he wasn’t in heaven.


	16. In Which Nick Fury Lives Up To His Name

The medicine that Bruce got for Peggy helped with her fever, and by the next afternoon she was so restless and impatient to get up that Steve installed her on the couch in his suite. 

“Now don’t get up as soon as my back is turned,” he warned her, as he draped a fuzzy blanket over her. “It’s my turn to watch for suspicious activity.”

“I can help,” Peggy protested.

“Only if you stay still and drink your tea.” Steve handed her a steaming cup of something. Peggy sniffed at it. 

“That doesn’t smell like tea,” she said. “It smells like vinegar.”

“It’s tea,” Steve said firmly. “It’s called ‘Throat Coat,’ and it’s for colds. I put in some lemon juice and vinegar and honey to help your throat get better quickly.” 

Peggy sipped it experimentally. Steve had been generous with the lemon juice and vinegar. “Yuck! I hope it works.”

“It oughtta work,” Steve said. “My ma used to give me hot water with cider vinegar in it when I was sick.” He sat at the other end of the couch, near Peggy’s feet, and opened his laptop. 

Peggy watched him as he scrolled through S.H.I.E.L.D. articles, brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded her of meetings during the war, when the Howling Commandos would all huddle around a map and discuss the logistics of attacking different Hydra bases.

It was strange to think that that was all seventy years ago, and that the young man sitting on the other end of the couch was actually ninety-six years old. The whole world had changed, but Steve was the same. He was alive and here, and he loved her. Peggy felt gratitude wash over her like a wave. In her wildest dreams, she could never have imagined any of this.

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed. “Listen to this. S.H.I.E.L.D. got a report from Serbia—near Belgrade—about a guy whose car went over the edge of a bridge. A man with a metal arm got him out of the car and saved his life!”

Peggy sat up straight. She remembered hearing about Steve’s encounters with the Winter Soldier earlier that year, when Bucky, brainwashed by Hydra, had tried to kill him and then saved his life. Steve had said the Winter Soldier had a metal arm. 

“Do you think it’s Bucky?” Peggy asked.

“Could be. Unless Hydra’s been fitting more guys with metal arms.” Steve typed rapidly on his laptop keyboard. “I gotta get Sam to look at this. He’s out in Austria, looking for Bucky near that old Hydra base in Krausberg.”

Peggy recognized the same intensity of purpose that, during the war, had sent Steve thirty miles behind enemy lines to rescue Bucky and the rest of the 107th. He wanted to rescue his best friend, or die trying.

“Is there any way we could help him look?” Peggy asked. Steve’s head shot up. 

“What?”

“We could go out there ourselves. The Avengers always seem to be flying halfway across the world—could you get the others to cover for you for a couple days?” 

She could read in Steve’s eyes how much he appreciated that. “I can’t think of another mission I’d rather go on with you,” he said. “No, I shouldn’t. The Avengers need me here, and as far as we can tell, Bucky probably isn’t in immediate danger. We oughtta focus on Hydra and the time machine problem. Sam can check out the lead in Serbia.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Peggy sat back with a sigh. More than anyone else, she knew how much Steve longed to go after Bucky himself. But he couldn’t abandon the country he had sworn to defend, not when Hydra was watching the very doors of Avengers Tower.

“Uh-oh,” Steve said a few moments later.

“What is it?” Peggy asked.

Wordlessly, Steve turned the screen toward her.

A news website was open on the screen, and the huge headline read: “Captain America—Injury and Secret Romance!” Below the headline was a photo (not a very good one) of Steve lying in the road after getting shot, with Peggy bending over him.

“Blast!” Peggy said. “One of those people must have been taking pictures.”

Steve nodded. “I’m counting down the seconds until Nick Fury calls. He’s been wondering who it was that took out the Hydra agent after I got shot, and he’s pretty quick about putting two and two together.”

“Well, we were going to tell him anyway,” Peggy said. “I suppose we might as well tell him now as later. But what does the article say?”

Steve read the article aloud. An enthusiastic journalist had painted a descriptive picture of the well-dressed mystery woman tending to the Captain’s wounds. “Women all over the country are distraught at the news that Captain America has a significant other,” the article proclaimed. Steve blushed hotly.

Peggy raised an eyebrow at him. “Women all over the country?”

“I don’t know—it’s not—I mean—” Steve fumbled wildly looking for words, gave up, and turned back to the article.

Peggy laughed and then coughed. “It seems things haven’t changed much since those USO shows with all the girls trying to get your autograph.”

The article was full of speculation about the identity of Captain America’s girlfriend. The picture in the article didn’t show Peggy’s face that clearly, but online sources had already been trying to identify her with facial recognition technology. 

A buzzing sound coming from Steve’s pocket made him jump. “That’s gotta be Fury. No, it’s Nat.” Steve pushed a button. “Romanoff, you’re on speaker,” he said.

“Rogers, Carter,” Nat’s voice crackled from the speaker. “Looks like the two of you made the headlines.”

“How did you know I was here?” Peggy asked.

She could hear the smirk in Natasha’s voice. “Just a hunch,” Natasha said. “Actually, you weren’t in your room when I went by five minutes ago. Besides, Steve never puts the phone on speaker.”

“What’s going on, Romanoff?” Steve asked. “We saw the headline.”

“So did half the U.S.,” Natasha said. “You’d better think up a story to tell Fury when he calls any second now.”

“I know, I know,” Steve groaned, running a hand through his hair so it all stood on end. “Peggy and I were going to tell him anyway. He’s gonna be mad though.”

“He might be less mad if you head him off by calling first,” Natasha suggested. 

Steve sighed. “You’re right. I’ll call him.” 

Off the phone, he looked keenly at Peggy, his blue eyes concerned. “You’re all right with this?”

Peggy took a long sip of tea and smiled up at him. “Darling, the sooner we talk to him, the sooner I can get some kind of identification, and the sooner we can get married.”

She could hear Steve’s breath hitch as he took that in. “Right. I’m calling him now.”

“Rogers!” Fury’s voice on the other end of the line was so loud Steve winced. “You got anything to say about that headline?”

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you,” Steve said. “I’m engaged.”

The noise that came from the other end of the phone could only be described as a splutter. “You’re _what_?”

“Engaged. To get married.” Steve took a deep breath and started to explain, but Fury cut him off.

“Just a couple months ago, after you almost got killed falling off that helicarrier, you didn’t come to Europe to hunt down Hydra agents because there was something you ‘had to do first.’ Figured you were looking for that Winter Soldier buddy of yours. I coulda used you overseas this whole time, and now I learn you’re running around with some girl you met on Tinder or something? What is going on with you, Rogers?”

“I didn’t meet her on Tinder. I met her during the war. In 1943.”

“Nineteen forty-three—Rogers, if you think you’re pulling my leg, you’re not very funny.”

“I’m not pulling your leg. She came here from 1948 in a time machine that Howard Stark invented.”

The dead silence on the other end of the phone lasted so long that both Peggy and Steve began to wonder if Fury had fainted.

Fury cleared his throat loudly. “I can tell this is a conversation we oughtta have in person. I’m coming over to the tower. I’d better find you there!”

“You’ll find me here.” Steve pressed the button to end the call and sank into the back of the couch. “He’ll probably be over in ten minutes.” He sat bolt upright. “Ten minutes! And you’re sick! He can’t barge in here and yell at you when you’re sick!”

Peggy found herself struggling to keep a straight face. “Steve, don’t worry, it’s all right,” she said. “Even if he does yell, it won’t hurt _my_ throat. I’m not planning on yelling back.”

* * * * *

Ten minutes later, Steve’s phone rang again. It was the Avengers Tower receptionist. “Nick Fury here to see you, Cap,” she said. “Where do you want to meet him?”

“Tell him to come up to my suite,” Steve said. “Thanks, Martha.”

Peggy swung her feet down from the couch, smoothed her hair, and whisked the fuzzy blanket out of sight behind the couch. 

“You’ll catch cold again,” Steve protested.

Peggy lifted an eyebrow at him. “Steven Rogers, I am not meeting the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.—which I hear I founded—wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket with little American flags all over it. Where on earth did you get that, anyway?”

“Tony.” Steve grinned sheepishly. “Could have been worse. He threatened to get me socks with my face on them.”

Peggy laughed. “After seventy years, they’re still selling Captain America merchandise? Don’t tell me you’re peddling E bonds onstage again.”

Steve groaned. “I was afraid you’d ask,” he said. “It’s even worse. They’re having me film PSAs for schoolkids. Exercise videos and stuff about hot lunches and head lice.” 

“You’re joking.”

Steve’s face was bright red. “Believe me, I wish I was.”

Peggy burst out laughing and went into another coughing fit. “I’m sorry, darling,” she gasped, “they shouldn’t make you do that, but I’m just imagining—all those schoolchildren, listening to you solemnly talking—about the dangers of head lice!”

Still red-faced, Steve hurried to bring her a glass of water. “Breathe, Peggy,” he told her.

Peggy got her coughing under control and wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Steve,” she said, taking the glass of water. “I’m sorry. I won’t tease you about it in front of the other Avengers.”

Steve dropped a kiss on the top of her head and grinned down at her. “Thanks. I don’t think anybody else knows about them except Romanoff.”

There was a loud knock at the door. “Rogers!” a deep voice called.

Steve hurried to open the door, and an imposing man in a black hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses strode in. “Rogers.” He took off the sunglasses, revealing one normal eye and one eye covered with a black patch.

“Fury.” Steve faced him evenly. “You told me once the world had gotten even stranger than I already knew. Well, it’s stranger than that now.”

“So I hear.” Fury turned towards Peggy, who was sitting calmly on the couch with her hands clasped in her lap. “Rogers, why don’t you start by introducing me to your friend.”

Steve turned to Peggy. “Peggy, this is Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury, this is Agent Carter, the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., my fiancée.”

“How do you do,” Peggy said, nodding at him. 

For the second time that day, Fury seemed to be tongue-tied as he stared at her. Finally he lowered himself into a chair. “Why don’t you two both explain what’s going on here. Start at the beginning.”

Steve sat down next to Peggy on the couch, and they started at the beginning. Steve told about running into Peggy in Central Park. Peggy told about Howard and the time machine. They both told about their brush with Hydra in Central Park and Steve’s injury. It took a long time to tell, because Fury kept stopping them and asking questions. 

The good thing about Fury was that he was used to dealing with superheroes and unusual events. He also had known Steve long enough to be inclined to believe him. 

“I didn’t think there was anything you could tell me that would surprise me,” he told Steve. “Well, I’m surprised.”

“Wanna bet I can’t surprise you again?” Steve grinned. 

“You tryin’ to get that ten bucks back from two years ago?” The corner of Fury’s mouth quirked. His face quickly sobered again. “Here’s my big question: why didn’t you tell me before?" His voice was raised now. "The whole world could be in danger because of Howard’s time machine, and you decided to keep it a secret?”

“I was hoping we’d get it settled quickly ourselves,” Steve said. “We’ve been keeping an eye out for suspicious activity round the clock, and we’ve got Tony and Howard both working on a way to get back and destroy the time machine. You don’t have anybody in S.H.I.E.L.D. that comes close to the Starks in technology.”

Fury snorted. “So you’re saying you didn’t tell me because you didn’t need my help? Fact is, Howard Stark caused a problem, and I’m gonna have to deal with it eventually. If you Avengers think you’re gonna hide stuff from me, and then run to me when you need help, you’ve got another thing coming. I’ve got a lot of problems to take care of. I don’t need things blowing up behind my back because the Avengers tried to take care of them alone.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “As I remember, earlier this year, I almost got killed because you and S.H.I.E.L.D. were setting up Project Insight behind our backs. Secrets are your thing, not mine.”

“I kept secrets because I had to,” Fury said. He looked sternly at both Steve and Peggy with his one eye. “You think I do this for fun? If everybody knew what S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing, we couldn’t do any of it.”

“Director Fury,” Peggy told him, “when the Avengers decided to work with you, they were putting their trust in you, even though you had secrets from them. You need to trust that the Avengers are working for you, not against you.”

“Trust.” Fury tapped his eyepatch. “Captain Rogers here knows why trust doesn’t come so easy to me.”

“Look, Fury,” Steve said, leaning forward. “You came to my apartment when S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised and you had nowhere else to go. You had to trust me then. You can trust me now. And you can trust Agent Carter, who founded S.H.I.E.L.D. We won’t keep any secrets from you that will hurt you.”

Fury looked from Steve to Peggy, and then back to Steve. After a long silence, he stood up and held out his hand. “All right. I’ll trust you. But that doesn’t necessarily apply to the rest of the Avengers.”

Steve shook Fury’s hand firmly. “Good enough.”

“Now where’s that Howard Stark?” Fury asked. “I’ve got a bone to pick with him. He did plenty of good things for S.H.I.E.L.D. after it was started—did he _have_ to build a time machine and put the whole thing in jeopardy?”


End file.
